


Be The Hero That You Are

by IdiotCrusader



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Chronic Pain, Dad Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Past Child Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues, Superpowers, Young Genji Shimada, Young Jesse McCree, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 10:51:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14872367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdiotCrusader/pseuds/IdiotCrusader
Summary: When a zombie apocalypse breaks in, a retired super soldier Gabriel Reyes must find his former ally and lover Jack to make him the best proposal ever: to save the world together once more. He also needs to find a way to bring young Fareeha back to her mother. Oh, and don't forget battling the dark and edgy past!On the other end of the country Jesse and Genji, two runaway test subjects, are desperate to keep each other safe. It's only a matter of time until they meet each other - and Reyes always had a soft spot for strays.





	1. Intro - On The Run

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think I would start an Overwarch multichapter anytime soon, but look at me now.  
> Buckle up for what's hopefully gonna be a fun ride! 
> 
> The title is totally inspired by amazing Be The Hero by Nerdout.  
> Tags may update as the story goes. Comments and kudos are much appreciated.

Sirens are blazing in the distance.  
  
Genji chokes on the tube as it slides up and out of his sore throat, heaves a breath, and all of sudden he’s wide awake. His gaze snaps back and forth, taking in the dark empty ward.

Except it’s not empty anymore. 

Someone’s desperately pulling on every wire and restraint that hold him tied to the bed. Genji can hear the drainage tubes snapping, slipping out of his body, and there’s a sharp pain in his abdomen that has him gasping. Genji doesn’t flinch back. He’s used to the rough treatment. 

“Sorry! Sorry, darling,” someone hisses, and Genji recognizes the voice.  
  
Relief washes over him like a tide. It’s not the lab staff, not Them. It’s just…  
  
“Jesse?..” He sounds so weak, so raspy. Must’ve been sleeping for days this time round. Genji is only awake when They need him to be and left here in the ward sedated for the rest of time. Like a toy, put back into the box after a playdate.  
  
Jesse gets to stay awake. Genji isn’t sure what’s worse.  
  
“Just me, just me,” Jesse mutters. His hands never stop working, freeing Genji, he’s in a rush, and Genji feels fear rising in his chest. Something is wrong. More wrong the usual. “Listen to me real careful now, yeah? There’s something… something out there. I dunno. The guards are scattered, and all the door locks are down.”  
  
Jesse grabs his hands and pulls Genji up onto his feet. Genji does his best to stay upright, but he’s dizzy, disoriented. The alarm is too loud.  
  
“Hey!” Jesse grabs his chin with his good, human hand and fervently whispers, leaning in close: “This is the chance we wanted! Ya get it? This is the day when we get to run! They ain’t paying attention, whatever happened, it keeps ‘em busy, and we’re gonna be far away by the time they know we’re gone!”  
  
Genji takes a second to take his words in. 

It’s crazy. It’s insane. Their little comforting fantasy was never meant to become reality. Genji wants to say that they’re gonna get caught before they even make it out of the wards, that the punishment would turn their miserable lives into even further hell, that it’s never going to work out for them in the outside world and they know it...  
  
But Jesse’s eyes shine so brightly. He believes they can do it, he really does.  
  
And Genji would do anything for his one and only friend.  
  
So instead, he says:  
  
“Lead the way.”  
  
Jesse helps him to pull a hoodie over his head, tucks the free-hanging bundles of wires under the fabric and quickly stuffs fresh bandages into the leaking drainage port on his left side. Genji doesn’t know where he got any of this, but it doesn’t matter.  
  
Jesse McCree is fifteen, two years older than Genji, and Genji believes in his every word and decision something fierce.  
  
“Remember what we said before, darling? Just gotta cross couple of blocks and crawl through the vents, and we’re out. The security system’s down, I checked as I went here. Couldn’t find out what could mess the labs up so much… there ain’t a single soul out there interested in us right now. We have to use it. When I say, we kick the door out and run like hell, till we’re out, and then we figure it out, how does that sound?”  
  
Jesse’s babbling, but it’s okay, it’s… great, even though Genji doesn’t believe they’ll get that lucky. Genji gives a short nod, adjusting his balance. His half-mechanical body can still hurt, a lot, but he’s used to ignoring it. Apprehension and something terribly akin to excitement bubble in his chest when Jesse grabs his hand and squeezes. 

Human hand to the human one.  
  
“I can keep us safe. I’ve got the Peacekeeper back, cause these fuckers aren’t keeping my gun.” Jesse grins, reassuring, nervous, _determined_.  Genji almost smiles back. “Ain’t keeping any of us, either. You ready?”  
  
They’re as ready as they can be. They’ve dreamed of it for years and planned for months.  
  
The sirens hitch on the outside, something crashes with a loud splash, and they both tense. Jesse never lets go of Genji’s hand. Restarted alarms sound like a starting pistol.  
  
“GO!”  
  
They run.  


	2. The Superhero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm yet to figure out the updates schedule, but we'll try to stick to "once in a few days".  
> But the first bit was just an intro, so have a proper chapter now!

“...another outbreak of the new virus in Indiana and California. Local hospitals report rapidly increasing numbers of patients, while national epidemiological services still investigate--”

A massive thunderstorm came without warning in the late afternoon and raged outside since then. Gabriel couldn’t remember the last time weather was a nuisance enough to disturb the TV signal. The anchor woman's voice kept breaking off and coming back, and the picture switched back and forth to static. Gabriel gave an annoyed huff. So much for wanting to watch the news once in a century. 

“...senator's asked the citizens to keep calm and reasonable and stressed the fact that there’s no fatal threat posed by the new strain, despite the best efforts of conspirologists to connect the outbreaks to the catastrophic explosion at the research facility near Santa Fe--”

Thunder rumbled behind the closed windows, drowning muffled words. Gabriel hesitantly flicked the volume a notch or two up and instantly turned it back down. He couldn’t risk waking up his charge, it was long dark outside - but these reports were worth listening to.

Gabriel didn’t like those news one bit. Even less since politicians of all sorts started giving their favourite “nothing to worry about” speeches. 

Forgive a former black ops commander for being a tad sceptical, would you? 

“...are reminded of the symptoms, which include severe fever, nausea, skin rash and--”

Gabriel was once in awhile glad to be retired. He used to hate the whole thing when he’d just resigned. Life of the field commander may have been dangerous and grim, but it was never uneventful. The civilian life tasted dull in comparison. They’ve forced him to hole up in this house away from the nearest town, had him supervised and watched as a condition of his retirement. He would’ve never agreed to this… if he hadn’t asked to resign himself. 

Anyway, at times like this didn’t seem like such a burden. 

“...you are advised to take necessary precautions and immediately seek medical counselling in case--”

Gabriel never trusted doctors all that much, not after the whole super soldier story. Whatever was happening, he had a gut feeling it was serious, much more serious than a new flu strain - and Gabriel trusted his instincts. These outbreaks kept flashing here and there for the two weeks at least, and the national epidemiology services still avoided giving any sort of explanation. Hospitals were getting a little too full, news - a little too vague, and numbers of severe cases seemed to grow, but there weren’t any fatalities at all. In Gabriel’s opinion, this fact didn’t speak of medical advances. 

It screamed of a lie. 

“...is believed that the virus is not transmitted via air or domestic contact, but wearing a mask in public places and minding personal hygiene during the epidemic season can prevent many--”

“What’s that?”

Gabriel turned his head a little too quickly, switching off the TV in an instant. 

So much for not waking her up. 

Fareeha Amari, his sister in arms’ daughter and his current charge, was standing in the doorway, eyeing him curiously. She was barefoot, wearing a pyjama dress down to her knees. Her hands were clutching a toy of some sort. One of those flying rangers, Gabriel assumed. Fareeha seemed to be fond of everything that could fly. The Flying Superhero Suits Phase. 

“Nothing important,” Gabriel grumbled. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“It’s ten o’clock, mom lets me stay up till eleven!” She gave him a self-assured smile, almost daring to go against that argument. Gabriel honestly didn’t care about bedtimes enough. “And I told you, you have to call me Pharah! That’s my superhero ranger name!” 

Gabriel couldn’t stifle a chuckle, watching her cross her arms over her chest. Kids, huh...

“Pharah” was ten, and Ana believed for some reason that Gabriel was the person to look after her while her mother is off on some secret dangerous mission. Ridiculous. It’s not that Fareeha wasn’t a good kid… she was. She’s taken a lot after her mother. The same sharp, intelligent look. The same courage and wit, even now when she was so young. Difficult at times, but knew when to back down. Gabriel would’ve been silently content to spend time with her.

If not for the fact Gabriel wasn’t any good of a caretaker. 

He enjoyed Fareeha’s company almost as much as he enjoyed Ana’s, but he wouldn’t have trusted himself with a pet fish, let alone a child. And yet, he couldn’t refuse. Not when Ana knew every bit of his story and still thought he was safe to be around. 

One of a chosen few to think that. Gabriel learned to appreciate it long ago. 

“So-o,” Fareeha climbed to the coach near him and sat there, staring at the blackened TV screen. “Is it true, what people say about this disease?” 

“What do people say?” 

She shrugged. 

“I’ve read this guy’s post on the internet… He thinks it came from that lab that blew up. Says they’ve been doing some really messed up stuff there.”

Not too unlikely, Gabriel though with a flick of bitterness. 

“So a virus broke outta there, and now it’s gonna kill half of the humanity! Or turn people into horrible monsters!” Fareeha finished excitedly. “Cool, right?” 

Just amazing. 

“What’s exactly cool about it?” 

“It’s like in the comic books!” Fareeha waved her hands in the air with a laugh. “We get to fight the monsters and save everyone! How is that not cool?”

She pulled her tongue out on him. Gabriel felt like he just landed into the solid “no fun” category in her mind. Of course, who would refuse to be a superhero anyway? 

This question hit a little closer to home than it should have.

“Does your mother also let you read those things?” Gabriel questioned, amused. He just needed to shake off the unwanted feeling.  

“Totally! I’m, like, almost an adult now!” She got up and straightened into a proud posture. “I’ll be in the real army soon, fighting bad guys like you and mom! Pew! Pew! Pharah protects innocent! Justice rains from above!” She burst into a happy laughter, pointing finger guns at him. “You like that? I came up with it the other day and thought I need to make it my superhero catchphrase!”

Gabriel could feel the fondness mix with the same old bitterness. He still smiled. 

“Soldiers don’t get to say catchphrases, kid.” 

_...and your mother would hate to see you become one of us._

Fareeha pouted. 

“Oh yeah?” She didn’t believe him for a second, but her dismay didn’t last long: barely ten seconds later her face lit up with a sudden realisation. “By the way, mom wanted me to give you something!” She searched around her dress’ pockets, extracting a pile of unrecognisable children treasures (picked up garbage to Gabriel, but she seemed to assign some importance to this mess) before pulling out a small white box.

Gabriel felt a spark of warm gratitude. Ana. She’d never forget, unlike himself. 

“Your mom is very considerate, kid. You’ll have to thank her for me when you go back.”

He tugged at the cupboard lid, slightly uncertain whether to open it in front of Fareeha, but decided to go with it. The kid was too curious for her own good, but she would know anyway eventually.

...didn’t mean she, or anyone except a few people, needed the full explanation.

“What is it?” 

“Meds,” Gabriel replied shortly, screwing the lid off and shaking off two bright pink capsules into his palm with a sigh of relief. “Rare and damn expensive meds that your mom kindly keeps getting for me.”

They tasted sickeningly sweet like always, but he was too relieved to notice. Nice large bottle this time. Ana must’ve tried her best to get him enough to last a month if not more. 

“Why do you need them? Are you ill?” Fareeha scooted closer, studying the unlabelled bottle and pink pills inside. “Nice colour.”

_You could say so._

“It’s a war veteran thing. You might end up the same way after the service,” Gabriel muttered darkly. “This is why your mom doesn’t want you to--”

There was a knock on the door. 

They both startled. It was loud enough to break through another strike of thunder. Someone was banging at that front door like their life depended on it. Gabriel was pretty sure he didn’t expect any guests, and they were too far away from the town for surprise neighbourhood visits anyway. 

There was a sound suspiciously like a muffled screaming, a pause, and then the banging increased tenfold. Gabriel glared in the direction of the door. He could swear he heard a “help me” in all that noise. The wind roared, but his enhanced senses picked up on distinct sounds. A female voice, a cry, a car engine rumble.

Gabriel was neither Mother Teresa nor an idiot, and he hated letting in strangers. They still had to check.

“Please! I beg you, _please open the door_!”

This time, they both heard it. Fareeha flinched when Gabriel got up in one swift motion. 

“Maybe… maybe someone got lost in the thunderstorm?” Fareeha offered, clearly nervous. She curled up on the couch, looking at him like he could promise she’s right. 

He wished he could. He wished his sense of danger would get it wrong this time, and he would just turn out to be a paranoid old soldier. 

“Maybe.” He’s always kept his guns close. “Stay back.” 

“What are you going to do?” She called, never taking her eyes off the gun in his hands.

“If they need help, we might sort it out. If anything happens…”

Gabriel could sort it out too - the other way. He’d just have to make sure that Fareeha doesn’t know how exactly.


	3. Gone For Good

Genji could tell Jesse’s footsteps apart from anyone else’s. He could hear him approaching - long before a normal human being would.  
  
Jesse was back.

Genji stirred, trying to shake off the lingering slumber. They stopped for rest in the tiny abandoned cabin among the fields. Genji didn’t know the purpose of the empty wooden box with glassless windows up on the tree, he assumed it was some sort of the observation point for whoever owned the fields. It didn’t matter. It could do just fine for a shelter.  
  
It wasn’t safe to sleep in, but nowhere was truly safe, really. Genji was too exhausted to be guarded. They would walk all night and rest all day. Jesse kept insisting it was safer like this, and they didn’t care about directions all that much anyway. Genji’s new body was still somewhat a sloppy job, half-finished, half-healed, and all the running was taking its toll quickly. Jesse was doing his best to help and reassure him, but Genji was fully aware he couldn’t afford to complain. Slowing down now would get them both caught, and Genji tried his hardest to stay focused on keeping up.  
  
It didn’t make pain and strain any easier to bear. He had to take every second of rest they could afford, and Genji hated that. It meant Jesse had to take care of everything else himself, and there was nothing to make Genji feel more like a burden.  
  
He hated giving Jesse even more trouble than usual.  
  
He hated letting Jesse go to the nearby towns alone to stock for them because there was always a chance of something going wrong and Genji wouldn’t even know.  
  
Genji suppressed a frown, turning his head to the empty doorway. Jesse’s smiling face appeared in the frame, and a tightening in Genji’s chest seemed to ease just a little.  
  
“Hey there! Got you a little something, darling!”  
  
Jesse’s metal hand was clutching a stuffed bag to his chest as he swiftly climbed the wooden stairs and stumbled into the cramped space of the cabin. Genji shifted where he was slumped with his back against the wall to give his friend a weak greeting nod.  
  
Genji wasn’t ever that talkative. Not since he became a subject, anyway. Talking either required too much effort or was punishable, so he fell out of the habit to speak up when not asked quickly. Jesse never seemed bothered by it. He understood.  
  
“Nice rest?” Genji gave another tentative nod. “Wanna see what I’ve found?”  
  
Jesse shook the bag, revealing a few packages, and grabbed one, pulling out a white plastic rectangle of a blister pack to offer it to Genji with a soft 'there you go'.  
  
“Consider it a gift. Nothing special, but I just thought might be useful, y’know?”  
  
Genji just stared. A… A gift?  
  
Test subjects didn’t do “gifts”. But they weren’t lab rats anymore.  
  
It’s been a few days since they ran away, and Genji still couldn’t quite process the thought. The memories from the escape were a non-distinguishable blur. But the world around was The Outside. It looked different, smelled different. No tests, no sensors, no doctors. No rules and no one to enforce them.  
  
They were… free. And Genji could hardly believe it.  
  
He’s had a nightmare on their first night out. Genji fell asleep curled up beside Jesse and saw himself in the ward where he used to wake up for years. The doctors talked above his head like he wasn’t there - they never bothered to notice that he was listening. They were congratulating each other on another successful experiment, and Genji remembered the freezing fear. He never knew what they’ve done this time before it showed.  
  
And they said: it was a brilliant simulation.  
  
They said: he really believed he could escape, didn’t he?  
  
What a _hilarious_ idea.  
  
Genji had a nightmare that the whole thing was just a mind game that the science staff loved so much, another trick of theirs, another drugged dream that brought no comfort. That his senses deceived him. The smell of early fall, the sounds of the highway that they had to cross, the rush of the wind not contained by the lab walls… the warmth of Jesse’s hand in his own - it was all a lie.  
  
Except it _wasn’t_.  
  
Genji woke up shaking, tears streaming down his face, but The Outside and Jesse were still there, and and it all was insanely, utterly real. It was truly happening.  
  
They were on the run, and they were on the move.  
  
Jesse really outdid himself. He was onto every little thing they could possibly need. Maps, food, fresh bandages. Where and when to go, who to avoid, where to rest. Jesse seemed so… natural in the outside world, so competent and certain. Watching him calmed Genji down, too. He didn’t remember much from before the labs, and the enormous world beyond the research facility walls both mesmerised and frightened him.  
  
It was okay. Genji was fine as long as he was with Jesse.  
  
He picked up the plastic blister pack with care, looking it over with curiosity. Pills of some sort, unrecognisable. Anything Jesse though worth bringing was worth attention.  
  
“What is it?” Genji enquired.  
  
“It’s painkillers, darling,” Jesse sounded so proud of himself. “I, uh, had a chance to grab them, so I did. It must be pretty strong. I spend a bit of time listening to some lady ask questions about it at the pharmacy and remembered most of it. I’m not sure if it works for you, but we can try a small dose first to make sure it’s safe…”  
  
Genji stared at the blister, dumbfounded. He couldn’t help but think about the risk Jesse had to put himself through to get this little extra. It wasn’t even a necessity.  
  
“You’ve brought me… pain meds?” He was only allowed pain meds at the most special occasions before. When They really needed him to be paying attention to the experiment. Receiving the painkillers shot either meant a really important, really frightening test or a new surgery, and Genji both hoped for it and hated the days when it would happen.  
  
Something about his tone probably gave Jesse a wrong idea.  
  
“Well, yeah! You don’t have to try them or anything if you’re not sure,” he raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “You understand that fancy cyborg stuff better than I do. I just thought you might wanna give it a shot, but it’s okay not to--”  
  
“No. I’ll try them,” Genji interrupted sharply. “But you didn’t have to go through all the trouble for me.” Neither of them had any money, and they couldn’t afford to stay in one place long enough to look for a job. Genji knew Jesse had to steal. “What if you get caught?”

Something unrecognisable took over Jesse’s expression for a second. There was a relief that Genji had accepted the meds, his usual stubbornness, but also something else that Genji couldn’t define. He didn’t like it.  
  
“I won’t, darling. I’m pretty handy with those things.”

Genji knew Jesse used to be a street kid before the labs. Jesse never talked much about before, but they were close enough for Genji to know that he used to mend for himself, used to steal, and used to wish he was old enough enrol into a local gang because gang fighters were privileged not to starve. Jesse was a good shot even back then. The Peacekeeper he held so dear was from before, too. ****  
** **

This was how Jesse’s ended up there: no one cares for the strays. Genji’s story was special, almost oppositely different, but Jesse was just one of the many.  
  
One of the few that went on to survive this long.  
  
Genji slowly turned the pack around and pushed one of the pills out, studying it before retracting his mask and swallowing with visible effort. Jesse worriedly watched him.  
  
“Hope that helps a bit. I’ve also found some food, here. Nothing fancy, and not much, but you can probably eat most of what I’ve found…”  
  
“Does it bother you?” Genji interrupted again, as the mask slid back to cover his mouth. He wasn’t exactly hungry. Normal food kept making him sick, he’s gotten far too used to the nutrition gel rations that They would put him after every surgery. The food would be better off given to Jesse than wasted on Genji - Jesse deserved it more anyway.  
  
“What does, sweetheart?” Jesse asked, somewhat tensely.  
  
“That you have to steal again.”  
  
Genji wasn’t sure why he needed to ask. He could see the answer clearly. They talked about it just enough for him to know that Jesse’s life was not much better before the labs than after he got there. He had every right to hate every reminder.  
  
Jesse slowly shook his head, as if trying to convince himself in what he was about to say.  
  
“I have to. As I said, I’m pretty handy with it. It’s only for now anyway. When we can get far enough I’ll figure out a way to go at least half-legit, I promise. Find myself a job, maybe…” He cut himself off sharply. “Doesn’t matter right now. Wanna eat together, and then sleep some? It’s getting late, but we don’t have to come out until a couple hours later.”  
  
“Let’s just rest,” Genji asked quietly.  
  
He somehow felt like he’d crossed a line, even though Jesse never got angry with him. Never. Genji felt so safe around him because he knew Jesse wouldn’t be mad - but it also made guilt for anything wrong Genji would say or do so much sharper.  
  
They would usually sleep together under one blanket. Genji could feel Jesse trying to get even remotely comfortable on the floor beside him, but didn’t press closer to him.  
  
“There is some illness going around in the town. People wearing masks everywhere… We gotta be careful. I ain't a doctor, so better not deal with it.” Jesse said behind his back.  
  
Genji chose not to answer.  
  
They lay in silence. Jesse’s breathing evened out soon, but Genji couldn’t follow. His mind swarmed with thoughts, none of them good. Usually having Jesse beside helped, but not today.  
  
It took him some time to realise what was off. The pain… it was gone. As much ass Genji hated it, it helped to take his mind off the anxious buzzing. When it wasn’t there to distract him, sleep was even harder. Genji absentmindedly picked up on the seam between flesh and metal on his neck.  
  
It hurt in an acute, controllable way, so he did it again, chipping little pieces of paint and scratching the already inflamed skin.  
  
He got so entranced with it that he almost missed the moment Jesse woke back up. 

“Hey…” Jesse shifted, turning to face him. His bionic eye glowed slightly in the dark, and the shadows sharpened his features eerily. He reached out to gently take Genji’s fingers away from his throat. “What are you up to?”  
  
Genji blinked slowly, letting his own artificial eyes adjust to the glow. It was too late to pretend he was still asleep.  
  
“Is it the pain again?” Jesse asked softly. “I was hoping the meds would help…”  
  
“No.” It was true. Genji felt better than he did in days, and yet something bothered him. “I was just thinking…”  
  
Jesse patiently waited for him to finish, but his hand found Genji’s again.  
  
“Do you think they’d send someone after us?”  
  
“Didn’t look like they would have time, darling. The labs were a mess when we left. They ain’t gonna recover for a while.” Shadows and the joined glistening light from their cybernetic enhancements turned a soothing smile into a grimace.  
  
They didn’t talk about what they saw back at the labs, not once. To be honest, Genji didn’t have much to contribute. His memories really were incomprehensive, he could barely trace them - they ran, and there were sirens, and red emergency lights, and the sign of biological hazard on the door, and people… really _wrong_ looking people in the corridors. Genji didn’t care what or who they were. It wouldn’t be the first time when an experiment went out of control - just the first in his life when the staff didn’t deal with it right away.  ****  
** **

They could still deal with it after. They would clean up the mess, count the losses and discover that a couple of their lab rats were missing. No way they’d just let them go.  
  
“What if they already did?” Genji bit his lower lip, trying to calm himself. “You know they won’t just give up on us, Jesse! They’re gonna send a chase, and you know it’s gonna be _him_! What are we going to do?”  
  
It wasn’t about Genji.  
  
Genji was a special case to be brought back alive and in a presentable condition. Jesse… just wasn’t as important for Them. They would kill him and call it a “collateral damage”.  
  
That thought scared Genji like nothing else.  
  
“Don’t see that many options, darling,” Jesse said after a long pause, filled only with the sound of Genji’s erratic breathing. “He gets anywhere near you again, I get the gun and shoot the bastard right between the eyes.”  
  
Just talking about it set him off. This was one of the reasons why Genji hated talking about things like that aloud - he couldn’t… just couldn’t keep calm.  
  
“Not possible,” Genji gasped, suddenly shaken. “He’s too powerful. It won’t work. It won’t.”  
  
“He might be good, but he ain’t faster than my bullet.” Jesse shook his head before Genji could answer. “No one can outrun the Deadeye, darling. You know that.”  
  
“You said we can’t use the abilities so people wouldn’t know what we are!”  
  
“I said you shouldn’t. Myself is a different story, we need Deadeye.”  
  
“But!..”  
  
Jesse sighed and leaned in close, pulling Genji into a warm hug with a murmur:  ****  
** **

“Ain’t nothing I wouldn’t do for ya, sweetheart. Some scrappy bullet magic is the least I can offer to protect you. You just have to trust me, alright?”  
  
As if Genji already didn’t.  
  
They spend next few minutes that felt like an eternity like this, curved against each other on the cold wooden floor. Jesse slowly stroked Genji’s back, grounding, and Genji tried his hardest not to cry. The wind outside howled, like a wounded animal, but it still felt better than a graveyard silence of the lab wards.  
  
Slowly, ever so slowly, Genji managed to relax. He was never fully calm, never truly well, but Jesse always knew how to soothe him a little, even if just temporary.  
  
“Okay?” Jesse waited for a small nod before pulling something closer out of the dark. “Come on. Sit up a little. It’s almost midnight, we’ll have to go soon, but I wanna show you something else.”  
  
‘Something else’ turned out to be a small tablet of some sort. Genji wasn’t in the mood for excitement, but Jesse didn’t seem to expect it.  
  
Genji reached out to brush the screen with his fingertips, and it lit up as a response.  
  
“We’re running blind, no news, no nothing,” Jesse explained. “I thought we could use some more information, so I stole this thing. We probably shouldn’t use it to communicate or stuff like that, but reading news can’t hurt that much.”  
  
Sounded fair enough to Genji. He picked the tablet up - it wasn’t too different from the ones the lab staff would use, and the interface was easy to figure out. The network was up. Genji saw the staff browsing the net before - he knew what to do.  
  
A newsfeed went up on the screen, and Genji froze.

“What’s there?” Jesse tried to glance over his shoulder. “Read anything interesting?”  
  
Genji stared at the heading, unsure of how to feel and what to say.  
  
“Yeah.” Genji flicked the text away, knowing it wouldn’t help Jesse much, and enlarged one of the pictures. “The facility… it exploded. Soon after we left, it says.”  
  
The laboratory was gone for good.  
  
Jesse fell silent beside him. Genji imagined he was trying to deal with the same numbness. They should’ve been happy to see the place in ruins. They should’ve been ecstatic, really. There was so much anger, so much blame Genji used to direct towards the labs and every person there. Everything he went through, every test, every second of pain - it was all their fault, and Genji should’ve felt… something.  
  
Instead, Genji just felt frozen. As if his mind couldn’t quite wrap around the idea. Just like with their escape.  ****  
** **

“That… probably means they’ve cleaned up the mess the hard way.” Jesse took less time to come back to his senses. “Damn, just look at this shot… is that what’s left of our block?”  
  
One of the handlers that used to work with Genji loved to repeat that the best way to hide something was to put it into the most obvious place. Genji assumed this was the reason a secret lab ended up on the news. It wasn’t secret itself - only the things They would do there. It didn’t matter anymore. It was gone. Destroyed. Laid in the dust.  
  
“That might mean they have no idea we’re gone. We might be assumed dead.” Jesse grabbed the tablet, flicking through the aerial view pictures.  
  
“Only if they didn’t try to evacuate the subjects and staff before blowing it up.”  
  
Someone came and set up the explosion. Someone, who knew what’s going on inside. Genji didn’t believe in accidents that could destroy the whole facility so neatly for a second. He’s lived there long enough to know how much well-thought deliberate effort that would’ve taken. Someone was really keen on that clean-up.  
  
Why? What has happened the day they left?

“Do you think they had?” Jesse swallowed hard. “They wouldn’t have risked pulling anyone out, would they?”

They both knew who that “anyone” referred to.  
  
“I do not know whether they evacuated the other subjects before the explosion, but the favourites always go a long way,” Genji chuckled darkly.  
  
Favourites. Successes. Something Genji never was.  
  
“There’s always a chance he didn’t survive. The explosion was massive.” Neither of them believed it. Genji wasn’t sure why he bothered saying at all.

“I’m so sorry, darling.”  
  
It wasn’t a condolence.  
  
“It doesn’t change anything. We can fight if he comes.” Jesse tried to reassure again, but Genji wasn’t having any of it this time.  
  
“Not that we can afford hope,” Genji gave him a long look. “But for our own sake, I really hope that we won’t need to pick that fight up. We’d lose. I’m sorry, Jesse, but I know what he’s capable of better than you do. Our only chance to get away would be Hanzo being _dead_.”


	4. Shot, Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, what's up?  
> It took me more time than I've expected, but the chapter turned out rather long, so I've split it in two. Have some Gabe and zombies now, and regrets™ part will be out in a couple of days.

The woman was tiny, obnoxiously redhead and absolutely soaked.  
  
She almost fell into the doorway the second Gabriel moved the catch. He jerked back on pure instinct but was fast enough to catch her anyway. He wasn’t supposed to greet people with guns anymore, even if they seemed like a threat.  
  
She gasped, grabbing his shoulders to regain balance, and Gabriel stifled the urge to shake her hands off. It wasn’t like an elderly shivering woman posed much of a threat to a super soldier. Gabriel had to protect Fareeha, but he kinda had to behave like a reasonable human being, too.  
  
“Oh thank God! Thank God you’ve opened the door!”  
  
Technically, God didn’t have anything to do with his decisions, but Gabriel guessed she wasn’t in a position to think about it. She seemed… distraught. Not the ‘my car broke in the middle of the storm and I’m lost’ distraught. More like ‘I’ve seen a ghost’ type. Shaking all over, pale as paper, this very particular glassy look in her eyes. Gabriel has seen panic far too many times to not recognise it.  
  
He could see Fareeha’s worry-scrunched face peeking from the living room. Gabriel silently motioned her to get back to the couch. He wasn’t even surprised when she ignored him.  
  
“I’m assuming it’s not a thunderstorm you’re running from?” Gabriel helped the woman in properly, shutting the door behind her to cut off the raging rain and wind, but made no move to let her go any further into the house. She was clearly in trouble, but no one said it made her welcome.  
  
“Running?” She gave him a wild look as if she couldn’t quite figure what he was on about. “Oh no, I wasn’t… running, why would you say ‘running’?”  
  
Gabriel honestly was never good with fussy civilians. It was more of Jack’s thing, comfort the suffering, impress the sceptical. Be the hero and save the day. Jack was born to be an adored poster-type hero.  
  
Jack was also the last thing he needed on his mind right now.  
  
“Okay. Not running. What’s the matter, then?” He tried again, sending another death glare in Fareeha’s direction - to zero effect.  
  
Somehow the second attempt did it.  
  
“It’s my husband, Bobby,” the woman started, stumbling over words as she shook. Her eyes were fixing on a random point somewhere behind Gabriel’s back. “He’s been ill a while ago, you know, that bug that everyone’s talking about… but he got better, oh, you don’t have to worry about getting sick! The doctor told us it was safe to come home!”  
  
Gabriel was getting a really bad feeling about this.

The people saying the infection’s not transmitted easily were better be right. The last thing Gabriel needed was to bring this disease no one knew shit about properly into his home when Fareeha was there. Hell, the lady could’ve just stopped at someone else’s house! Life just really hated Gabriel Reyes, didn’t it?

“We live here, maybe a few miles away, and it’s a nice place but the hospital is a bit too far, so I said he should’ve stayed there, what if something happened, right? But Bobby is always so stubborn, he said we come home, and it’s really hard to say no to your darling, isn’t it?” The woman’s stare snapped to Gabriel’s face as if she expected him to agree with this stream of words. He nodded, and it seemed to get her talking again. “But then… He’s just not himself, you know? I can’t even recognise my own husband! We had a fight, and we never fight, I knew he was feeling unwell, then he went to sleep and woke up _different_!”

Different. Whatever this was supposed to mean.  
  
“Different how?”  
  
He expected another tirade, a long and knotty description, but she was curt this time. She threw her hands up in the air, exclaiming a little too loudly:

“He _bit me_ , can you imagine that?” 

Fareeha flinched - Gabriel could see it from where he stood. There was a messy wound on the woman’s thin forearm, the clear imprint of blunt teeth surrounded with heavy bruising and drying blood. A bite indeed, deep enough to tear the skin. A bite she got from her husband.

It sounded an awful lot like some sort of a mental fit. A hallucination, a stroke, a muddled consciousness - whatever malfunction could mess up the elderly man’s brain. Bad for him, not a great situation to deal with for Gabriel either, but nothing special. Illness happens. Emergencies happen. Why the hell did his sense of danger flare like a damn alarm?  
  
There was no point asking what she wanted from him. Gabriel could guess: help. Help with getting her unwell husband to the hospital (what else could she be doing out on the road in such weather, if not getting him back to the doctors?), help with deciding what to do, help in case he became violent again. No one likes to be one to one with someone who’s losing their mind. Even if the person was dear to them before.  
  
Gabriel knew that a little too well.

He frowned, weighing the options against each other before deciding:  
  
“Fine. Let’s go check up on Bobby.”  
  
It was still better than kicking her out (he wished he could, but it didn’t seem like an option on Fareeha’s watch) or letting the car with what sounded like a freshly manifested psychiatric case to stay in the yard unsupervised. He checked the gun and headed to the front door. Gabriel didn’t bother to keep it discreet - the woman didn’t look like she’d notice anyway.  
  
“Bobby was always such a darling,” the old lady lamented, hurrying to the door beside him. “I don’t know what got into him… And our dog, Lucky! He’s a good boy, but when Bobby started acting strange he I just couldn’t calm him down, he kept growling and barking like mad…”  
  
The dog… It could be nothing, just the thunderstorm screwing with some mutt, but animals weren’t dumb. Non-sentient, yes, but they could smell things. Dogs furiously hated Gabriel when he was going through the enhancement programme, could sense there was something off about him. His first day after the changes started was the first time he’s ever seen a living creature go from the all-adoring friendliness to the utter hatred in seconds. His encounter was the base’s resident mutt wasn’t exactly pretty.  
  
If you want to find an inhuman freak, just get the animals to track.  
  
A shame it only worked when the changes were fresh - otherwise, this little trick would’ve helped Gabriel plenty when he was back in black ops, tracking down enhanced offenders of all sorts. Alas, the messed up biology stabilised itself over time somehow, apparently. Animals still paid Gabriel some suspicion, but he could pass it as a mutual dislike.  
  
The thunderstorm outside didn’t calm down one bit. Gabriel contemplated an umbrella for a second and let go of the thought immediately. Now was a bad time to be picky. He stepped right out, making a slight face when the wind threw what felt like a bucket of water at him, but didn’t slow down. The woman followed suit. She never stopped talking, seemingly unbothered that Gabriel couldn’t make any sense of her words anymore.  
  
Something about the good boys and hospitals and years of happy marriage. Nevermind. The car, an old rusty pickup, was right there, in front of the house. Gabriel could see someone slumped on the passenger seat - barely a silhouette in all that rain. Damn that weather...  
  
Gabriel briefly wondered what he’d do if that Bobby really did turn out to be manifesting schizophrenia or some mental trouble like that. The landline was probably still in order, but an ambulance wouldn’t get there anytime soon through all the mud and water. He strongly resented the thought of having some crazy stranger staying in the house with Fareeha - or leaving her alone to drive the couple to the town.

The enhancements made him ambidextrous, with the guns at least. Gabriel put the gun into his left hand and, having given up on the attempts to take a closer look at the man inside the car through the window, pulled the driver’s door handle with his right. Better off putting some distance between himself and the guy before he can figure out what’s going on. 

The first thing that hit him was the smell.  
  
The yard smelled like ozone and water, but something else was coming from inside the car. A distinct, heavy odour Gabriel couldn’t quite recognise. Something akin to the smell of unkept wounds and used bandages - sickeningly dense stench with a hint of antiseptic. The woman didn’t say anything about her husband being injured.    
  
Was it his super soldier senses, or was it really that strong? Gabriel frowned, squinting to try and scrutinise the crooked figure on the seat. There was something… off about his posture, the way he was seated, looking away.  
  
“Can you hear me?”  
  
Nothing. He was limp as a ragdoll.  
  
Gabriel reached out to touch the man’s shoulder, purposefully making a noise, but got no reaction. The patch of exposed skin on his neck skin looked clammy and felt cold to the touch. Did the guy even breathe at all?..  
  
A chilling suspicion crippled up his spine. Gabriel closed the door and went around the car to take a closer look from the passenger side. The woman stayed put, absentmindedly fiddling with her soaked clothes. Gabriel opened the door and leaned closer, trying not to take overly deep breaths - the stench grew only stronger. Was that blood? He called the man by the name again, putting a hand on his hand to shake him away. Dislodged by the touch, Bobby’s head moved, tilting to the side.  
  
Oh.  
  
That was... definitely blood.  
  
Gabriel stared onto the gaping head wound with a blank expression, ever so slightly disgusted. The whole of Bobby’s temple looked crushed into his skull, like a broken eggshell. Well, that explained his earlier misgivings and the woman’s state… Not so easy to stay calm when you’ve just killed someone. Gabriel assumed it was her. The outside of the wound was nicely cleaned, but there was no mistaking a fatal injury.  
  
Yet he could hear the very faint breathing coming from what should’ve been a dead body.  His eyes were open, eerily irisless. Unmoving and completely white.  
  
Gabriel looked up to catch a glimpse of the woman, when the dead man in the seat all but sprung to action, scrambling out of the car.  
  
_What?!_  
  
He charged forward with unhuman force; there was no skill or thought to the attack, but the old man’s body felt ten times heavier than it should’ve been when it hit Gabriel. With all his suspicions, he didn’t expect something so blunt - Gabriel managed to keep upright, but the sheer force of impact stunned him for a second.  
  
Bobby - or whatever was Bobby once - screeched, stumbling on the ground in the mess of limbs at Gabriel’s feel, clinging to him with enough vigour to yank him into the dirt. Its teeth snapped a millimetre away from Gabriel’s jeans.  
  
The gun was off the safety lock since the second he’s left the house. He didn’t have to think, didn’t have to aim. One second Gabriel was kicking Bobby-or-whatever in the face to get him off, the other the gun was out and ready and...  
  
Another thunder strike drowned the gunshot sound in the rumbling.  
  
Gabriel watched the body slump in the blood and dirt, stopping his stare at what’s left of his head for a second, before slowly getting up. A shame he allowed himself to be tackled down at all. He was definitely getting older. But still trigger-happy, it seemed.  
  
He was breathing a little too fast, and not from the strain of fight. It felt  _so good_ , pulling that trigger… When was the last time he’s got a chance to remind himself his own strength, live through the adrenalin, feel the shotgun recoil sending shivers down his spine?  
  
He shook his head, trying to shove this thought away.

He really should've been more concerned over shooting a civilian, but Gabriel has seen that headwound up close. He couldn’t bring himself to pity someone who was already dead by the time Gabriel’s shotgun even got anywhere near him. It. What the actual  _fuck_.  
  
“I really didn’t want to hit him with that iron,” the woman said suddenly somewhere from beside. She sounded less shaken for some reason. Sad yet almost lethargic. When Gabriel looked at her, her eyes were starting to whiten. “A good wife needs to know how to forgive here and then, don’t you think? I didn’t mind the bite all that much, but when I found him eating poor Lucky…”  
  
Gabriel really didn’t need to wait and see to tell where this was going.  
  
It could be reversible. It could be temporary. They could still stay human inside of their heads. All too many reasons not to shoot her - the man was a goner before they even met, but not her… For some reason, Gabriel didn’t believe any of this reasoning.  
  
She’d better be gone, too. She knew - he could see she didn’t want to resist. A shame she wouldn’t get much choice in the end if it goes anything like it went for her husband.

He could decide what exactly was wrong with them all, including his moral standards, later. Right now, he had to take care of the woman before she became a problem of a similar calibre. He still waited, never breaking eye contact until her eyes went completely white.

It was the least respect he could pay her.

The second the last drop of human was out of her gaze, Gabriel took a clear, easy shot. He didn’t hesitate, aiming for the head. Like that, it was over.

A second body went limp to the ground.  
  
Black smoke trailed off from the gun and the hand holding it, but Gabriel paid it no mind. He checked the bodies, careful to stay away from the spilt blood and wondering if his shots were enough to let them both rest in peace - the man survived that first wound somehow after all… Yet now they lay silent, and his sense of danger kept to itself, too. Another miraculous resurrection seemed unlikely.  
  
He should have felt sorry for them. He would have, really.  
  
But the racing pulse and ragged breathing were too distracting to feel anything except a deeply rooted craving for  _more_. He hasn’t been in the field for ages, a voluntary self-denial, and finally getting some action wound him up in the worst ways possible.  
  
More black smoke coming out with each breath, another surge of sick excitement. The rain didn’t feel cold anymore - it felt boiling on his skin. Gabriel watched the bodies for a while, before heading back to the house.  
  
“Are they dead?”  
  
Fareeha. Standing in the doorway to the living room.  
  
Ah, shit.


	5. Like A Soldier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised: Gabe has regrets, Pharah is on a mission. With a touch of reaper76 because we're all here for the ships.

_“Are they dead?”_

_Fareeha. Standing in the doorway to the living room._

_Ah, shit._

* * *

_That_ brought him back to his senses. It took him a mere second to realise what he was doing, and the realisation downed with a force of Reinhardt's swinging hammer. Gabriel turned his back to her abruptly, desperately trying to pull himself together. Quite fucking literally in some aspects, damn the smoke…

He shuddered, drawing a forceful inhale through clenched teeth. Come on, come on! Gabriel could feel his features shifting and the black smoke settling down, but it was nowhere near quick enough. A mirror would be really handy right now. He just fucking had to know if he looked like a human before he turned to face Ana’s child.   
  
Did it even matter? She saw him kill two people just now. Fareeha was young but most surely not stupid, she knew. God, he really screwed up the whole caretaker thing, didn’t he? 

“Are they?” Her steps, approaching. 

“I’m afraid so, kid.” Gabriel grinned despite himself. It sounded too absurd not to.

Gabriel desperately searched for the words, but his mind kept going blank. He didn’t give a fuck about the dead bodies in the yard, he’s had his fair share of killing before. It was a self-defence, if anything. But Fareeha saw, and Fareeha was ten and such a good kid and she was Ana’s daughter. 

Maybe that was why she’s managed to surprise him again.   
  
“Okay,” Fareeha agreed quietly, stopping just behind his back.   
  
“Okay?” Gabriel caught himself just in time to keep himself from turning to her. Just a little more time… Adrenaline still had his heart racing. Losing control felt so appealing. He hasn’t done anything like this in a long time--it was a dangerous train of thought.   
  
He didn’t feel that thrill in ages. No matter how hard he tried, the agitation kept pounding in his chest like a music beat, and the familiar sharpness of senses, the feeling of being unstable and misshapen didn’t want to go away.   
  
_Calm down. Just calm the hell down!_   
  
“I saw him attack you. From the window.” Fareeha’s presence behind his back was almost tangible, but he couldn’t face her just yet. She hesitated. “They didn’t… look very much human. In the end. Did they turn into horrible monsters?”   
  
“Pretty much, yeah.”   
  
_Makes three of us._   
  
“Mom always says you shouldn’t hesitate to protect yourself or people you care about.”   
  
Just the thing Ana would’ve taught her kid to believe.   
  
The tears she was holding back were so obvious in her voice it made Gabriel shut his eyes tight in near desperation. God knows he was never good with civilians… Not with kids, either. Out of all people to be near him when he had to kill someone Fareeha was the worst choice possible.   
  
Before he knew it she was pressing against his back, trembling.   
  
Not yet, not _yet_...   
  
“Hey, kid. Can you do something for me?” Gabriel called, as softly as he could master. He was standing stiff, staring right in front of himself. Couldn’t risk pulling her into a hug right now, couldn’t risk showing his face to Fareeha on top of everything.   
  
He couldn’t even tell whether his voice was off to the raspy tone he came to hate or it was just his imagination messing with him. Gabriel was really getting older. Not enough fight, far too many regrets. When did his life turn into a pity party for one?   
  
“Can you go get the meds from the table?”   
  
“Did they hurt you?” He hated to hear the courageous, cheerful kid sound so small.

“No.” This wasn’t a lie, at least. “Just… Please. I promise we’ll be fine. I just need you to go get them, okay?”   
  
A shaky nod, that he couldn't see but felt. The sound of footsteps back and forth. She was quick about it, and Gabriel was grateful that she could still listen to what she’s told.   
  
Gabriel slowly put an open hand behind his back, letting her slip the bottle into his palm. His usual dose didn’t do the trick, but would one more do it? Two, three? How many pills were enough for him to be safe around Fareeha, to trust himself to stay sane?   
  
He ended up gulping down the capsules without count. An overdose would suit him just right. Gabriel hated to admit but he wasn’t the unshakable soldier from his better days. It all happened too fast, out of blue...   
  
It was not about the killing, it was about him feeling _thrilled_ to do it again. It was about the things those poor bastards outside became and what it could imply. It was about Fareeha, standing patiently behind his back.

The agitation was draining, leaving him tense and exhausted.   
  
Gabriel touched his own face - the fingertips were clean, no black smoke, no distorted flesh. The meds worked fast, but no one could guarantee they would last long. If he suspected right, there would be plenty of chances for him to lose it again in the next days and weeks.   
  
The world and its problems could wait. Fareeha came first.   
  
Gabriel took a deep breath just to be sure and slowly turned to finally face her.   
  
He was met by the most heartbreaking wide-eyed gaze. He was honestly damn surprised she didn’t run away screaming from him. The kid didn’t know him well enough to trust, and he’s just taken two lives on her watch.   
  
Fareeha didn’t run.   
  
Instead, she closed the distance between them in one short step, clinging to him tightly. Gabriel might’ve not expected that, but the least he could do right now was hug her back. Fareeha’s little form was wracking with full body shudders, but her eyes stayed dry.   
  
Of course, Ana would have the bravest kid.   
  
“I want to see mom…” Fareeha managed, pressing closer.   
  
“I know. Sorry it’s just me for now.”   
  
Ana. Something told Gabriel she would be out of reach, even if he somehow managed to get onto their old emergency frequency. She was all about the long stealth missions, the top secret kind, the “no contacts allowed for the entire duration” kind. How was he supposed to contact Ana if she didn’t, most likely, even carry a comm? And Gabriel could really, really use a way to talk to Ana right now.   
  
Fareeha would need her.   
  
“She’s not coming back now, is she?”   
  
They both knew the answer before he said it. Ana was on the mission, and there was no way to pull out even if they could ask her to. It’s always been that way, and Fareeha was probably got used to it by now. They all hated that she had to get used to things like that at all, but war was never kind to anyone. Families included.   
  
The defeated look in her eyes, slowly filling with tears, still brought up a new wave of guilt and anger. She struggled not to cry quietly, pressing her face into his shirt, and all Gabriel could do was stand there and wish things weren’t so fucked up in the first place.     
  
“Sorry, kid,” he repeated, apologetic, once in a long time genuinely sorry. The last time he said it and truly meant it was for Jack.   
  
And Jack wasn’t even there to hear it out.   
  
Jack.   
  
Gabriel’s mind raced, trying to connect the dots. Whatever happened to those people outside… If he was right, the same just occurred to every other patient all over the States. A country-wide emergency at best, a full-blown bloody apocalypse at worst. Depends on how fast it spreads and how much havoc the infected manage to wreck. The disease probably did come from the blown up lab in the end, but it didn’t matter now.   
  
Jack always used to say that something like that will happen sooner or later. He was never one to support the shady experiments and grey morals behind the military science. Probably the reason he's never gone further than the soldier enhancement programme. He was sure one of their tests would go really wrong one day - on a much bigger scale than ever before. The pandemy kinda thing, Jack would guess. Gabriel brushed his concerns aside back then, but now… Jack’s proven himself right enough times before.   
  
What was he supposed to do?   
  
Shit, he really hoped the virus wasn’t airborne. The woman probably got it through the bite, and Gabriel was quick to make sure no blood spilt on his bare skin, but her husband seemed to just be one of the patients from the TV news, and nobody knew how exactly they got sick… Well, damn that. Turning into a fucking horror-movie style zombie didn’t fit into Gabriel’s plans all that well. He had Fareeha to look after.   
  
Point one of the plan, to keep her safe. Point two… get out and get going.   
  
If they stay put, they’d be stuck in the quarantine. Gabriel was vaguely familiar with the protocols, the civil services would try to isolate the affected area as soon as they figure out what’s going on to stop the spread. Gabriel had zero faith in the system. No one would come to save them, never happened before, wasn’t going to happen now. Nothing new here, really, he was left on his own devices before - just not with a kid in tow.   
  
He took sniffing Fareeha back to the living room and turned the TV back on. There was no point hiding state of affairs from her anymore - she saw enough. They watched the emergency news with the same blank expression, Gabriel’s hand over Fareeha’s shoulders. He still stupidly held onto the hope that those two in his yard were just… an accident, a dangerous oddity of some sort. A one-time occurrence.   
  
This stupid little hope shattered the second the screen lit up to show them the live broadcasts, that filled the newsfeed. Videos from all over, some not even from America, most taken on phone cameras by civilians. All showing the same thing Gabriel just had to deal with, except most people on the streets weren’t in habit of carrying around a shotgun and being ready to engage. The outcomes of each toe-to-toe with the zombie were much more… gory. The channel censored the worst, but Gabriel still put his hand over Fareeha’s eyes a few times. She didn’t fight it, quiet and dispirited.   
  
So every former patient did become a… a zombie, for the absence of the better name. Gabriel kinda hated it, but he wasn’t in the mood to invent a proper term. What do you call a mindless flesh-craving creature anyway? Well, at least Gabriel was pretty sure Bobby here in the yard did fancy a bite of him. And the bites could send you down the same road real quick now, it seemed. The virus was a time bomb, that just stopped ticking.   
  
Just fucking amazing. Really. As if his life wasn’t enough of a clusterfuck by this point, fate goes on to serve a goddamn _apocalypse_ on a silver platter.   
  
Gabriel found himself to be unexpectedly accepting of the whole… situation. Not in a good way, sure, but he wasn’t even surprised. Come on, he wasn’t even fully human himself - it becomes easy to accept the thought of a monster-creating pandemy after seeing as much weird and outright unbelievable stuff as he did.   
  
Admitting everything just went downhill was easy. Knowing what actions to take from there was... trickier. Should they leave now, where would they go?

In fact, Gabriel might’ve just come up with an idea. It wasn’t the best, but he could contemplate his poor life choices while they were on the move. He needed to find Ana - she would come back from her mission sooner or later, and she sure as hell wouldn’t just come home in all this mess. She knew him well, probably wouldn’t think to seek him at home anyway… Reinhardt was also good to have by the side. A couple of others, as well. 

Gabriel knew exactly one place where everyone would be called to. If he wanted to find any of the old timers crew, he needed to get to the Overwatch base. There was no better place to start sorting this out from than Overwatch, the shiny and up-to-every-challenge strike team he never got to be on.  
  
Here came the only problem. The strike commander of Overwatch was no other than Jack fucking Morrison. Yeah, _that_ Jack. His former lover Jack. His mistakes and regrets personalised, Jack.   
  
(Oh, not like _loving_ Jack was a mistake. Being an idiot enough to lose him was.)   
  
He could get over it, Gabriel told himself. That is, of course, if he manages to find him at all. The base was in some hell hole across the country before, and no one said it was still there now. Jack could’ve been recommissioned elsewhere in all those years. Ana and Rein knew, but they never talked about it.   
  
It became a rule in his house. No Overwatch talk. No Jack talk.   
  
Right now Gabriel wished he wasn’t so fussy about his precious feelings and damn asked the right questions. Too late. Had to work with whatever he knew.   
  
He was on a ‘special consideration’ since his retirement, which pretty much meant there were people assigned to watch him and intervene if he was to do anything funny. They still had connections to his former command, but he highly doubted they would help him find Overwatch base or get there. It could only go two ways, them conveniently forgetting about Gabriel’s existence or dragging him back into the messed up black ops business because they saw the occasion fitting, and neither sounded like help.   
  
He did have a fueled car in the backyard, on the other hand… Nothing special, it could only get them so far, but Gabriel still deemed it worth trying.   
  
“Is it bad?”   
  
He got so deep in swarming thoughts that almost forgot Fareeha was still there. She didn’t make a single sound since they turned on the TV - until now.   
  
It wasn’t hard to guess what she was asking.   
  
“I don’t know. Seems so,” Gabriel admitted. “Things are crazy in the cities. We might have to pack up and leave before it gets any worse and reaches us.”   
  
For some reason, that was the last straw.   
  
“Leave? Where are we going?” Her lower lip trembled. “What if mom comes back for me, and we’re not there anymore?” Gabriel opened his mouth to answer, but she didn’t let him. Words spilt out non-stop, desperate, scrambled. The tears she was holding back glistened in her eyes. “What if she never finds me again? What if you get sick also and become bad like them? I don’t want to be alone!”   
  
Gabriel cradled sobbing Fareeha close, letting her mourn the loss of her perfect little childhood world. Being a loved kid was the greatest thing one could ever have. Life was good and safe, and nothing hurt. Only more pain to then lose all of it at once.   
  
“We’ll be okay. Mom will know where to look for you. I promise, it will work out.” He wished his words could actually comfort. He could not promise anything. Look at him. What a mess you turned a fine body and mind of a fighter into, Gabriel Reyes.   
  
Fighting monsters was never fun. Twice less when you’re very much like them yourself. Life was nothing like her comics.   
  
Speaking of which...   
  
“Listen, kid, I’ve got an idea,” Gabriel started, led by a sudden inspiration. “Why don’t you be a soldier on a mission? Like you wanted to, yeah? I think I know a way to get to your mom, but I can’t do it alone. Gotta have someone really fearless and cool helping me.”   
  
That seemed to catch her attention.   
  
“On… a mission?” She repeated, unsure, and then reached to wipe the tears with the back of her hand. “Like we’re a hero squad? Fighting together like Rein and mom?”   
  
Gabriel almost applauded himself. Not so useless with kids after all!   
  
“I’d rather you leave the actual fighting to me, but… sure thing. We will work together, as a team. You just have to promise you’d listen to me and be brave like you are.”   
  
She contemplated it for a second, before wiping the tears once more in one forceful move and straightening up. Gabriel thought she was going to hug him again, but she saluted instead. The serious expression on her face suited her oh so well.   
  
“Pharah is always brave… sir.”   
  
She really did take after Ana an awful lot. Gabriel could almost pretend he was talking to a much younger, but no less determined version of the old friend.   
  
“So will you call me Pharah now?” Well, very young. At least she wasn’t crying anymore - he really couldn’t stand the confusion of dealing with tears. “Does it mean I get to call you Reaper as well?” 

Gabriel almost choked on a breath. 

"How do you know about Reaper?”  
  
“Mom told me it was your codename!” She clearly sensed that she’s said something wrong and hurriedly tried to explain herself. Gabriel was just as quick to try and drop the topic.  
  
“I don’t... like it anymore.” To put it lightly. Reaper was never _just_ a codename anyway. Reaper was his worst fucking decision ever, that’s what he was. “Let’s stick to Gabe for now, okay? You can still be Pharah,” he added under her expecting glare.   
  
That seemed to satisfy her for now. Thank all gods. 

“So, Pharah… wanna pack up and get ready to go?” **  
**

“Yes, sir!” She saluted him again, jumping off the couch. The tears were drying quickly, and she seemed relieved to play his silly little game. Almost happy. Like everything was alright, like she didn’t cry over a catastrophe they found themselves in a couple of minutes ago.  
  
Kids were kids anytime, apocalypse included. And Gabriel couldn’t deny that he didn’t hate the fact as much as he thought he would. 


	6. At Your Service

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this a full Hanzo chapter that was never planned in the first place? MAYBE

The light was coming from above.  
  
There’s always a short, distinct time frame between the moment sedatives are cut off and the moment he fully comes to his senses. He’s floating, weightless and barely _there_ until the lamp lights and the sterile white of the ward and the inclined examination table come into focus. His eyes are open. His heart beats slow and steady, while the technicians and doctors report a successful awakening.   
  
Hanzo Shimada, stable and fit for duty.   
  
It always takes him a second to remember his own name.   
  
Hanzo didn’t know where he was, but it was nothing of importance. He vaguely recalled being transported from the laboratory which served him as an allocation for the last decade, but it was unnecessary to know why or where to. He would be briefed later if his superiors saw it fit, and moved again as soon as they pleased.  
  
Hanzo was there to do as they pleased.  
  
The headphones and video goggles slipped in place, blocking off the low rumble of surrounding machines and curt words of the maintenance team. They made him deaf, no faintest sound able to get through, and the screen in front of his eyes was blinding and dark. Hanzo took it without as much of a flinch, lying limp on the examination table. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, his body was motionless and numb, but it was how it was supposed to be.  
  
His conscious participation in maintenance protocols was not required, and Hanzo knew better than to interrupt with the staff’s actions.  
  
They handled him with the professional ease, gloved hands on his skin, pressing around his throat and abdomen, checking for damage, removing the attached sensors and rubbing into the stiff muscles. Hanzo was used to ignoring that touch. It was always the same routine, he could predict what came next after each step if he’d wanted too.  
  
There was no need. None of it mattered. Hanzo forced himself to relax as the feeding tube was pushed down his throat. Maintenance covered every aspect of his existence. He barely remembered how to performs some of the actions most people would’ve seen as basic on his own. There was no point in remembering - he never stayed out of the laboratory for too long. It’s not like he could still be considered a _person_.  
  
Like a precise deadly pistol, he got the job done and put back into the holster. Wounds could be mended and needs addressed when he came back from the mission.  
  
The staff were always thorough about it. They’d be met with repercussions should their mistake affect Hanzo’s performance in the field. He was the highest tier weapon, a perfectly tuned tool to employ for whatever task the clan desired to carry out.  
  
The best tools strive to achieve unbreakable perfection, and if humanity was to be sacrificed in the process, so be it. Hanzo wouldn’t think of having it any other way. This way, he had a purpose. This way, he was exactly what he was supposed to be.  
  
He wondered, apathetic from the remaining sedatives, what the next task could be. The briefing should’ve been coming any minute now.  
  
It did come soon indeed.  
  
A soft burst of static in the headphones had him collected and wide awake in an instant. The connection was stable and clear, it’s never been anything but, and a strong, peremptory tone Hanzo knew too well came through.  
  
“It is a pleasure to know the awakening was successful as always. Can you hear me well?”  
  
Hanzo took a deep breath, focusing on the voice, listening to every word closely. He couldn’t respond, not like this, but it was never required of him. He stayed silent unless prompted to speak. This rule went well with whatever little of personality he still thought of himself to have. Hanzo was never one for the talking.  
  
A short, deep laugh boomed in the headphones.  
  
“Of course you can. Now, Hanzo… While you were asleep an issue of some kind has arisen. I would like you to handle it for us.“  
  
The goggles came online, flashing images. Hanzo watched the mixed recording, slowly putting what he’s missed together. There were a date and time in the corner for every frame to assist him. Unusual, but not a complete surprise. They never wasted time explaining everything to him - just what he needed to know. The timeline was clearly important for this _issue_.  
  
He watched the alarms go off in the laboratories. The guards, the messy attempts at evacuation, the changed human beings that hardly looked alive roaming the corridors. They hardly seemed like test subjects. Some of them wore staff uniform and badges.  
  
“They are called _zombies_ now,” the voice supplied. “Distasteful, yet simple.”  
  
Zombies.  
  
Hanzo took little interest in the bloody fights that flashed here and there. He’s seen and caused more than enough deaths to be interested, yet his trained consciousness picked up on the attack patterns and weak spots. Shooting them in the head seemed to be the best tactics, and the creatures lacked intelligence whatsoever. Simple. Lacking challenge. The main point of this recording clearly was something else.  
  
The camera shifted to show one of the training rooms. Hanzo recognized the main block - he was always kept separately, in a smaller and better equipped individual containment unit, but he still knew what the main building was like. The automatic doors that were supposed to shut and seal as the alarms went off were wide open. There lied a bloodied body stuck in between the leaves of thick metal. It still twitched as the security camera regained focus on the corner on the room.  
  
Someone crawled out from behind the equipment racks. Small and lanky - a teenager dressed in the Program uniform. One of many. Hanzo, just like any other Shimada warrior, was a special case, a made-to-order handmade. The Program was a child soldier production line. The strays collected and put through the experimental treatment. Lose all of them over the course of the tests, and no one would notice. An acceptable sacrifice. None of them would’ve made a decent addition to society in any case.  
  
In fact, Hanzo did recognise this particular child. He’s never paid much attention to the other subjects unless they were targets or temporary training partners or someone to compete against. But he did know this one.  
  
“Jesse Mccree, one of the reasonably successful takes with the street kids batch. You remember Jesse, do you not?”

Hanzo stifled a forced exhale. He did.  
  
He knew the specifics of his enhancements to an extent, but the first thing that came to Hanzo’s mind was ‘bad influence’. Jesse Mccree was a bad influence on his brother, Genji. It was frankly a surprise to see that he hasn’t been eliminated or at very least moved. Hanzo would never understand why the clan let him interrupt with Genji’s conditioning.  
  
Yet he had no right to doubt their decisions.  
  
The recording went on to show Mccree recovering his personal weapon, the _Peacekeeper_ , from the rack and making his way through the corridors, past the zombies and the overthrown security forces and panicking civilian personnel. No one paid attention to him. Hanzo scowled at the frenzy. Unbelievable. One would think a high profile government facility would be much better prepared. Those pathetic uncoordinated efforts were hardly worth the title.  
  
Anyhow, Mccree was lucky to pass through the worst of it and slip into the medical wing. Hanzo briefly wondered whether he’s caused enough trouble to make the clan want him executed. The thought was met with an equally brief annoyance. Why would they want Hanzo of all available options for such petty task?  
  
Wrong. No task assigned to Hanzo was too lowly if that was what’s expected of him.  
  
Then he saw it, the main point of this briefing.

Genji.

Suddenly, it all made sense. It was all about Genji. The security feed was damaged, unstable, but it posed no difficulty to make sense of their actions. An escape, then… How unsightly. How much like his younger brother.

“Of course, runaways are nothing new,” the voice noticed over the comms, almost bored. “The procedure is long established. We would not require your skills to find and extract Genji, you are too good to waste your potential on a simple recover case… yet we ran into some unexpected complications.”  
  
The only reason he was awake now was the fact there were complications. Hanzo was a tool too precise for mundane tasks, seemingly. It was not a compliment, not a praise. Yet Hanzo was happy to take it as one as something fluttered in his chest, numbing the cramps from the tube feeding. He made sure to not let it show on his face, of course. He was not in a position to be distracted.  
  
“We had to sacrifice the laboratory to try and contain the spread. Unfortunately, the blight spilt out before our American friends got to react. The outside is not exactly what you might remember it to be, Hanzo.”  
  
Hanzo was never exactly interested in the outside world, either, wasn’t allowed too. Yet anything that was relevant to the mission at hand deserved his closest attention.  
  
While being briefed on the details was important, it didn’t occupy his mind completely. Following the recording that went on to supply more data on this  _zombie apocalypse_ , the disease spread and the current state of events across America multiple days into the breakout, Hanzo let his attention split. He was thinking of his new target.

He’d have to find and return Genji to the clan.

Had Hanzo still been able to feel regret, he would have felt it thinking about another unfortunate decision his brother had to make. There was no way he didn’t know he’d be brought back and disciplined accordingly for this serious misconduct. An escape attempt was never something to take lightly for the clan, yet Genji chose to try it. Why? He’s already been through the elders’ wrath before and knew the taste of it well. Hanzo was fearless, cold, yet similar memories of his own still brought up something pathetically humane in him. Punishments were not something to be sought after. 

Genji kept acting out like he was _asking_ for it. He was young, yes, but not stupid. A Shimada couldn’t be anything less than sharp and bright-minded. Hanzo could never understand his younger brother well. Sometimes he wished Genji could behave in a more predictable, reasonable way. There was no honor in disobeying the rules and contradicting your destiny, breaking your purpose. Why did he insist on doing so over and over?  
  
Out of all things, Genji’s fate sparked the most emotions in Hanzo, all of them - undesired. He’d rather avoid bringing him in for the due discipline, but some things couldn’t be avoided. Duty was not to be denied, yet sometimes Hanzo wished...  
  
Was it Mccree’s influence? The clan would hardly accept it as an excuse. Was it a test of some sort, then, to see whether Genji was yet mature enough to resist the temptation? A failed test, Hanzo supposed. Unsightly indeed. Genji was never living up to the expectations, as upsetting it was to admit.  
  
The tube was removed while he was deep in thought. Hanzo shuddered with silent relief. The goggles came off too the second the recording stopped playing, and Hanzo blinked a few times, letting his eyes readjust.  
  
“Are we going to have a problem, Hanzo?” The question came unexpected, startling him ever so slightly, but Hanzo was quick to regain composure. “You are free to speak.”  
  
He’s had an answer ready, always. The slight soreness of his throat did nothing to diminish the adamant determination in his tone.  
  
“No.”  
  
Some things had to be done. He would've never disobeyed an order. Hanzo was merely a tool, looking to be free of his own judgements and afflictions.  
  
“Good. You haven’t been sentimental in a long time, have you?” A chuckle. Hanzo waited, unsure of how to respond. “Always the loyal one. Admirable.”  
  
It took all his willpower to remember: this wasn’t a _praise_. It never was.  
  
“As chaos spreads Genji would become more difficult to track. The clan expects this issue to be resolved as promptly as possible.” A matter-of-factly statement. Hanzo’s enhancements gave him a useful advantage at tracking - he could follow anyone given the first direction. With Genji, it was only a matter of time, and if the clan had no time to waste neither did Hanzo. “What do you think of this Mccree character, again?”  
  
What about him?  
  
Hanzo dutifully contemplated an answer for a second. He was confident, but not stupid in a manner to sign off any complication as nothing before he was sure.  
  
“Deadeye is no match for the dragons.”  
  
It was not quite what he meant. Deadeye was a high-tier talent, new and high potential. Never tested in the field before, but even Hanzo could tell it has been promising so far. So it was about Jesse Mccree being a child. A forced into the Program, resentful, hardly well-trained child. Hanzo was shaped to be an assassin for the clan, and they made sure there were very few rivals that could compare to his skill and power. It was a matter of fitting the purpose.

Hanzo fitted his own  _perfectly_.

“I shall leave you to it, then.” The voice sounded pleased, but Hanzo knew better than to believe it. “The maintenance crew should assist you in your preparation.”

The room was full of staff - it took a lot of work to keep up with the clan’s standards. One of the technicians came closer to crook the headphones to the side so Hanzo could hear both the voice in them and his words.  
  
“Any pain at all?” The technician queried, and Hanzo shook his head for no. “Right. Everything else looks good, we can put ‘em on.”  
  
Hanzo lowered his head slightly to catch a glimpse of the detachable prosthetics brought in by another technician and what was left of his own legs. The stumps ended just above the missing knees, well-healed and encased into the implanted connectors. A methodically thought-through piece of technology that carried nerve feed and allowed him to walk with no impairment whatsoever.  
  
That was, when the prosthetics were on and attached.  
  
Looking directly at the stumps still made him somewhat anxious, _disturbed_. It was strange, to miss something he’s lost so long ago. These wounds had their time to heal under the watchful care of the laboratory staff.

The technicians followed the procedure step by step just like any other, working quickly without pauses. Lock, seal, power up the mechanical muscles. The onslaught of the nerve feedback always felt overwhelming at first - Hanzo had to bite back a gasp when suddenly, suddenly with a cramping burn of not-quite-pain he could feel his legs again.  
  
His prosthetics were off when he wasn’t in action, and having them back on sent a pleasant tingle down his spine. The feeling carried a strong association with upcoming battle and putting his skills to test. Hanzo enjoyed a challenge as much as he was allowed to enjoy himself, and being able to walk again was a sign that he was about to receive one.  
  
The straps on his waist and shoulders let go, letting him slip off the inclined table with feline grace. One soft step after another - every joint, every junction worked in a synchronized unison, no slips, no delays. The technicians proceeded to put his on his undersuit followed by the armour and gear, but Hanzo couldn’t be asked to notice. He let himself bask in the feeling for a second, reliving the sensation of having fully functional legs once again. A weakness, but one he couldn't resist just yet. Every time like the first. Walking only felt... right.

It made him feel _whole_.

“The clan wishes you a good hunt, Hanzo,” the headphones rustled. “Do not make us regret the decision to send you. Let me down, and I would be very upset with both of you.”  
  
Genji didn’t have to be involved. He brought it upon himself, but the punishment he’s earned so far would be harsh enough. There was no need to add anything on top of that. Luckily for him, Hanzo never failed the clan.  
  
“I wouldn’t think of disappointing you," he stated, bowing his head in respect even if he couldn't be seen, "...father.”


	7. Something Nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who came the fuck bacc.  
> On a serious note though, I do apologise for the huge delay!

“That woman is following us.”  
  
Jesse turned back slightly to look a busy street over in a quick glance to avoid seeming suspicious. Time was getting close to noon, today was sunny and warm for a change, and the broad avenue and a plaza lying in front of them swarmed with people: people leisurely strolling around, people buying groceries from the market stalls, all sorts of people in motley clothing, going it all directions at once. Some wore medical masks. None really paid attention to Genji and Jesse.

It was… overwhelming. 

They’ve spent an hour at most in this town, and Jesse was starting to get a feeling that it was normal. Plenty of folk everywhere they went, but everyone seemed to mind their own business. Sighing, Jesse pulled Genji closer, putting a hand on his shoulder in a feeble attempt to give some comfort.   
  
He couldn’t even tell which woman Genji was referring to. There was just too much of everything, of everyone to keep track. Jesse trusted his sense of danger to alert him if they really were followed - but so far Genji was just a bit overzealous in looking out for the chase.   
  
Not his fault. This was probably the largest crowd he’s ever seen in his life.   
  
“I don’t think anyone is, darling,” Jesse offered a small, half-forced uncertain smile. “She’s probably just going in the same direction. Nothing shady goin’ on here.”   
  
It never truly worked, his reassurance. Genji pulled the hood over his face even lower and refused to answer that, walking silently, eyes down, by Jesse’s side.   
  
Jesse sighed, shortly looking back again to make sure they’re definitely not followed. He just couldn’t help checking, even though he knew it was just Genji’s troubled mind acting up. Better be safe…

The news of the lab going down didn’t do them any good. It’s been a good week or more into their newly acquired freedom, and every day somehow was tougher than the previous one. Genji was becoming more and more convinced that they were tracked and chased, to the point where he was paranoid about every little thing. There was nothing Jesse could do or say to take his mind off the fact that Hanzo could’ve already been after them. It was driving them both mad: Genji was scared, and Jesse felt damn helpless.   
  
Hell, he was sick of feeling helpless all the time.   
  
Escape turned out to be the easiest step. The real fun started straight after. The money, the hiding, the never-ending food and shelter troubles, the little fun fact that they had no documents and official status, no nothing. Problems just kept stacking like a... like a stack, whatever, Jesse was never any good with those poetic metaphors. The point being, the outside sucked as much as he remembered from the distant Deadlock times.

Life hasn’t been any kinder now than it was in the labs, and Jesse was starting to have second thoughts. 

Not the actual regrets, of course. Hell no! It’s not like he could ever regret getting Genji out of that fucked up place and as far away from his so-called _family_ as possible. But the thought that maybe, just maybe he needed to come up with a more comprehensive plan than ‘we get and pray it works out somehow’ was starting to sink in. Genji trusted Jesse with his life, and all Jesse could do in return was to wish he could actually be worth that trust.   
  
He was supposed to behave like a proper adult - it’s not like he ever was one but he kinda was Genji’s best bet right now. He was supposed to have the plan ready. There were so many things Jesse should've done, but he just felt at a complete loss and _scared_ instead.   
  
What if Genji started to realise Jesse wasn’t all that confident in their actions?   
  
What was he going to do?   
  
“You holdin’ on alright?” Jesse gently nudged Genji's side. He was walking mechanically, dragging his feet ever so slightly step after step, barely aware of the surroundings.   
  
He’s been feeling worse the last few days, Jesse could tell. Genji was so… Genji about it, never complaining, never admitting it, but Jesse just knew him too well. He hated leaving him alone to get supplies all the times, but dragging him along would’ve been even tougher.   
  
“Yeah.” Even his voice sounded mechanical, monotone. “Let’s just go.”   
  
Well, on guard enough to be anxious. He didn’t like the crowd, but it was his idea they came here in the first place.   
  
So much for staying away from the big cities. Genji was adamantly set on the idea that Hanzo could track anyone, it was just a matter of time, but they were bound to meet him (assuming he did survive, but they couldn’t afford thinking otherwise) sooner rather than later if they stayed out in the open. Unsure how all those people around were going to help, Jesse still let Genji talk him into entering the city. Genji was right. He knew much better what Hanzo was capable of, if he said mixing with the crowd could throw him off the lead, so be it.   
  
They needed to make a move, so Jesse came up with his best idea in a few days, which was to catch a random train and get the hell out of this state. They couldn’t buy a ticket without an ID, so train hopping that was.   
  
And that was where they were headed, the station. Which was a little too far away if you asked Jesse McCree. Genji insisted on moving in the daytime, too, to cover the distance quicker. At least the idea of getting the train sparked some actual interest in him. Genji was apathetic and really, really tired for the most part, too weary to react to anything. Seeing all those people in the streets wearing medical masks and the warning posters all over the place made Jesse’s concern over his well-being nug him tenfold as much.

What if Genji wasn’t tired? What if he was _ill_?

He kept insisting he wasn’t, and Jesse couldn’t even call him out on that. Symptoms behaved… strange, they were coming and going. Genji was looking worse and worse until after yesterday’s camp. Jesse had left him for a few hours as usual and came back to find him looking reassuringly better. Maybe it was the rest. Maybe it was a coincidence.

Jesse would’ve been happy to just go with it, but the good things never lasted. Since then, that out of blue improvement wore off. The clock was ticking, and with every hour spent on the road, Genji grew paler and quieter.

Jesse wished he’d stop saying he’s fine. It’d be easier without lying.   
  
Frowning slightly, Jesse fidgeted with the brim of the cowboy-looking hat. He didn’t even steal this one, okay, he’s sort of found it, and the hat might not have been doing a very good job making him look inconspicuous but it sure as hell made him feel a tad better. He was getting pretty fond of that monstrosity of a clothing item.   
  
His eyes went around scanning the street and the market stalls. A bright yellow neon sign drew his attention: Jesse squinted at the letters, but couldn’t make any sense of them. The usual. He did recognise the fancy coloured stall anyway. He’s seen those before, back in Deadlock times - sure he's pretty much never had money to buy some, but he got lucky a few times, and it tasted  _divine_.   
  
Ice cream.   
  
Jesse subconsciously swallowed hard, his mouth watered from simply imagining the sweet taste. The gnawing hunger that’s been mercifully faint and distant for the last few hours made itself known, as if on call. When was the last time he’s had anything?   
  
A better question still, when was the last time _Genji_ ’s agreed to eat anything?   
  
“I think I just came up with an idea that might cheer ya up…” Jesse murmured, nodding it the stall’s direction when Genji lifted up his eyes slightly. “How’s a bite of that sound?”   
  
Probably not what they should be going for when money’s such an issue. But really, could anyone blame him? The ice cream was easily his best memory from the outside world, and now it was there, right in front of them, for the first time in forever. Lab rations sucked. There’s never been enough to really feel full, and everything tasted like cardboard. And now… Jesse was just so hungry. And Genji _wasn’t_ , ever, that was a problem they had to deal with. And if anything was going to bait him into eating it wouldn’t be some crappy canned food that Jesse managed to get before, that’s for sure!   
  
Food in general has been a pain to deal with lately. Jesse didn’t even know why, exactly, and it bothered him like nothing else. Well… except for dozens of their other problems, but you catch the drift there. Genji’s messed up body outright refused to cooperate sometimes. It just… didn’t do well with eating as the idea now. He’d be sick, and in pain, and feeling like shit after every other attempt, and Jesse could do nothing to fix that. The whole ordeal just made Genji less and less enthusiastic about trying at all. Jesse could see why.

With how much trouble his body was giving him on day to day basis, no wonder Genji felt zero desire to mess around. 

Jesse knew he didn’t feel the hunger all that strongly, pain pretty much dulled everything else. It was easier to just refuse than to gamble with his messed up physique and hope his body manages to stomach a meal this time round. But another thing Jesse knew was that people, cyborgs included, couldn’t exactly run on thin air and determination. He couldn’t refuse to eat forever, or they wouldn’t run very far.   
  
So, yeah, ice cream… Jesse didn’t know whether Genji would be lucky to feel better after that or he’d just feel worse, but they needed to try something. Anything.   
  
Desperate times, all that.   
  
All Jesse wanted was to do something nice for Genji, alright? Ice cream sure wasn’t much in the long run, but he couldn't really come up with anything better right now…

“So, what do you think?” Jesse gave the most uplifting smile he could master, hungry and exhausted and worried as he was. He tried his hardest to keep the spirits up: the second one of them gives up they are good as dead. 

He could see Genji bite his lip in hesitation, his face shadowed by the hood. Jesse could also see him eyeing the ice cream stall. Genji wanted to say yes - but something stopped him. Probably the fact they were never allowed things like that in the lab.   
  
Well, fuck that. Jesse was no lab staff playing by the rules. They could do all they wanted now. They were free.   
  
“But the money…”   
  
“But nothing. It’s now that much anyway.” What was that freedom good for anyway, if he couldn’t spend a little money to make Genji a little happier? Even if he had to steal that money. Jesse ignored a pang of regret, shaking his head slightly. Ain’t their fault they’re stuck in this mess. “Come on, let’s go get some!”   
  
Jesse’s been told by the staff he had a _charm_ before. He's spent a long time wondering what that was before someone cared to explain that it meant he was ‘somewhat likeable’. People liked him. Jesse reckoned it was a good thing even though he couldn’t really see what for. Without Deadeye, he was nothing special, mediocre at best, and Deadeye didn’t even belong to him in the first place… Some weird definition of charming, huh?   
  
Anyway, Jesse didn’t mind. He kinda liked people himself, it felt good not to be alone all the time. A small chat here, a smile there, stuff like that could go a long way. He had no problem making a small talk… but the mere thought of talking to the ice cream selling woman at the stall had him shivering in apprehension.

Oh, come on. Why was he even nervous? Jesse’s talked to the outsiders before, just not with Genji by his side, but what did it change? It’s not like anything bad was going to happen. The woman wasn’t going to pull out a cell phone to call the police the second she saw them. She had no way of knowing they were runaways. Cyborgs weren’t that exotic even back in Deadlock times, and Jesse made sure to grab a hoodie and the baggiest pants he could find for Genji to cover the prosthetics.

They’ve changed from the lab uniforms, got rid of the tracking tags, hid most of their augments, decided on not using abilities… Yes, they looked weird, two kids alone in the street, but there wasn’t a banner above their heads saying RUNAWAYS or anything. 

No one was staring. No one knew.   
  
The woman at the stall looked kind enough. She was all smiley, chubby and wore a pink apron, and a bad person probably wouldn’t be wearing an apron, right? Seemed logical.   
  
Genji followed him closely, clutching his sleeve. Jesse could tell he was curious, just hesitant as usual - the whole idea of getting a treat for the sake of getting a treat was like breaking a ground rule to him. Just a week ago, he wouldn’t have even dreamt of it. Jesse was happy to at least find something that got Genji excited - his anxious indifference scared him, making him think Genji was getting too weak to go on, that the pain was becoming too much or worse…   
  
“Wait!” Genji tried to stop him, pulling back all of sudden, but Jesse was determined. They’d be fine. He had to prove it to both of them. They needed to accustom to a new life, and talking to an ice cream lady seemed like a good start.   
  
It wouldn’t kill them. Hopefully.

Jesse pushed these thoughts aside, marching right to the neon sign and dragging Genji along. He caught himself fixing the hat again - what a thing to make your nervous habit…

“Can I help you?” The woman gave him the warmest smile as if she was actually happy to see them. Jesse still shivered. Her soft glance felt scrutinising.   
  
“Yes! I mean, howdy. Can I get… uh…” Genji probably wouldn’t know what ice cream was, let alone what flavours were there. He’s missed a lot, living in the lab since the youngest years does that to you. Jesse’s gaze flicked back and forth between all the options, taking in the neat rows of containers filled with oh so tempting ice cream of all colours and probably flavours he could imagine. The labels meant nothing to him; the woman waited with unbothered patience, yet Jesse suddenly felt embarrassed for taking so long. He pointed at a container blindly, blurting: “That one!”   
  
“Of course, honey.” That’s it. Wasn’t that hard, was it? “How many scoops?”   
  
Jesse’s real hand slipped into his pocket, fishing for money. There must have been a decent amount of cash left from his previous, uh, supply gathering, a few notes and probably some coins, too. Stealing again right here, in the daylight, was too much of a risk, but they still had enough cash to get the ice cream and then some other stuff and maybe even warmer clothes before they leave for one of the northern states…   
  
_The notes were gone._

Jesse froze in disbelief. The pocket was empty like nothing’s ever been there. He knew they had the cash this morning! He couldn’t have just lost it, could he?   
  
What if he did? Shit, shit, could he even mess it up so badly?!  
  
“Something the matter?” There was something off with Genji’s tone, the way his eyes were lowered, but Jesse was too busy panicking to know.


	8. Sweet Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you have to get on with the plot but can't resist slow-burning your ship.

Jesse couldn’t  _fucking_ believe it.  
  
He just… stood there, frantically grasping his empty pockets like the money could magically reappear there if he just searched long enough. Dozens of panicky thoughts swarmed in his head all at once. Could someone have stolen the notes? Could they have fallen out of his pocket somehow? No, no, he’s been watching the coat real closely all the time, only ever leaving it with Genji when he had to take it off, and Genji would’ve noticed…  
  
“Please,” Genji’s voice was barely above a whisper but the tag on Jesse’s sleeve felt insistent. Desperate. Jesse guessed Genji was asking to leave, probably wanted to run away from the awkward pause and the curious turning worried expression the ice cream lady directed at them.  
  
Jesse was having none of it.  
  
He’d have been happy to pretend he felt brave enough to stand his ground, even with something small like not ending up the conversation with the lady by running away because he didn’t know what else to do now. In reality, his brain struggled to catch up with the fact the money was gone. Boom, just like that, there’s nothing left.  
  
Jesse patted around his other pockets in a hopeless refusal to believe it, shoving his palm into one. Anger, bitter and sickening like bile, was rising to his throat quickly - at the world that dared to treat them like that, yeah, but mostly at himself. Genji trusted him, and Jesse couldn’t do anything right--  
  
His fingertips brushed a cold surface, and Jesse honest to God jumped at the metal jingle.  
  
Coins.  
  
A few coins fell into his palm, chilly and round and undeniably real. Jesse pulled them out with the urgency that would’ve suited pulling out a gun in a fight, bringing them close to stare. He could swear he didn’t place them there, but then, he could swear the money should’ve still been in his other pocket so it wasn’t a very reliable statement. Did he even have these coins? Where did they come from in the first place? Jesse had no idea.

It took all of his willpower to just quit staring at the bloody coins like they were a holy Graal or something. A chilling shudder still crippled up his spine in a nervous confusion. 

Was he  _forgetting_   _things_  again? Was this it?  
  
“Here.” He pushed the scatter of coins towards the lady along the counter before this train of thought could go downright spiral. “Here you go, ma'am.”  
  
Maybe he sounded just a little freaked out, but at least his voice stirred the lady from her vaguely concerned trance. Her head jerked towards the coins as she went on to dutifully count them. If she thought something weird was going on, and let’s face it, she had to be blind not to notice - she chose to ignore it in favour of doing her actual job.  
  
Selling the ice cream, that was. Jesse felt thankful. His heart was pounding in his chest like he’s just run a marathon. Had she said just on word about their sorry state or the miserable scene she just had to witness, Jesse could swear he’d bolt.  
  
Genji watched her count, tense and pale as paper.

“That would be one serving,” the lady announced, finishing with the money - admittedly there was not a lot to count.  
  
A laughable sum, Jesse just didn’t really feel like laughing at the moment.  
  
Still enough for that one serving though, right? Fine by Jesse, really. He was so hungry it was starting to hurt, and there wouldn’t be any other food in near future, this was their last cash, whatever. He could pass. Genji needed it far more, and Genji was a priority right now… and always, if you asked Jesse.  
  
Better times would come, he kept telling himself. They would have all the ice cream they want, and plenty of other things too when they find a safe place to lay low and settle.  
  
“Don’t…” Genji protested, cutting himself off immediately. He couldn’t take his eyes off the lady’s hands, filling a cardboard cup with the sparkling cold, thick ice cream. Neither could Jesse.

Jesse wasn’t walking away without it, not when he’s almost promised it to Genji - wasn’t Genji’s fault Jesse had to screw up everything he touched and now is head was a mess, too. However the second the cup ended up in Genji’s hand, Jesse was muttering the gratitude to the lady and pulling him back into the crowd for a scrambling retreat. They managed to blend into the incoming group of noisy tourists and soon disappeared from the view altogether, diving for the safety of a small avenue coming to the side.  
  
For a while, no one said anything. Jesse dragged them down the avenue, further from the plaza, trying to calm down his own hectic pulse. Nothing bad happened. They got what they wanted and the chase didn’t jump out of nowhere and the lady was kind to them. Nothing happened, he had no reason to freak out.  
  
Except for that lost money… Jesse bit his lower lip, averting his eyes to Geji that was following him silently, staring at the ice cream in the cup with the serene expression as if it was a treasure and a good dose of poison at the same time.  
  
The money. The coins in the wrong pocket. How could Jesse not remember?  
  
Maybe Deadeye was messing with his memory again. In that case, they’re both screwed.

Jesse wasn’t ever all that clever if he was honest. Hell, he was fifteen and he didn’t know how to fucking  _read_! The lab staff never bothered teaching the subjects anything, you didn’t need to read to shoot a gun, but most subjects knew how anyway. Most, just not Jesse. He's tried everything, even asking Genji for help, but nothing worked. Counting was okay, and Jesse could figure stuff out just fine, but reading… He could recognise some words by the outlines, and this was how far his ability went. The letters kept jumping around if he looked at them for too long, nothing made sense, God was it frustrating. 

So yeah. Jesse was not one of the bright ones. The staff made sure to tell him that on every other occasion.   
  
But with Deadeye, it was different. He could more or less come to terms with being too dumb for some things, but the shit Deadeye used to do to his head… Brain surgery to fit the implants was more frightening than painful, but the rehabilitation? A fucking hell.  
  
Jesse really, really tried not to think too closely about what it should’ve felt like for Genji, with all his prosthetics and surgeries.  
  
Anyway, the bionic eye wasn’t so bad. Took some time to adjust, but there were a few perks to having inhumanly sharp vision. The thingie they fitted inside his brain though… All Jesse knew about it was that it was supposed to help him aim. Which made it kinda insulting, really. What was wrong with his aim in the first place?! Jesse thought it was just fine, thank you very much. The lab staff, however, disagreed. And that was how he got Deadeye.  
  
Shooting with Deadeye was, uh, interesting. Hurt like hell even on the good day but he never really missed,  _couldn’t_ , so Jesse supposed it worked alright. But the side effects and surgery recovery… It did things to him. Things Jesse didn’t understand to a full extend - all the more reasons to hate it.  
  
The migraines. The false sensory feedback, like his body didn’t know exactly where he was and what was happening. The hallucinations.  
  
Worst of all - the missing memories. Jesse would lose full days because of Deadeye. He would wake up completely blank, not even knowing his name, and take hours and hours to piece everything back together and clear his foggy head. Never completely aware, never sure something important didn’t get lost forever. There wasn’t much he had, except for his memories and personality, and every episode scared him shitless.  
  
Jesse remembered his delirious hope to not forget Genji. He’d rather lose a piece or two of his memories from Deadlock, they weren’t any good anyway, but not Genji.  
  
The first year with the upgrades has been like living with a time bomb strapped to his chest.  
  
But... the blackouts stopped happening a long time ago! He’s got better. He’s learned to deal with Deadeye! Jesse was getting headaches at max nowadays, he couldn’t imagine how much he had to overuse Deadeye to give himself an episode now.

The money, though… What other explanation was there? What if Jesse was just sugar-coating it for himself? One of the technicians once said to him Deadeye would drive him mad without proper maintenance. Jesse took it for an empty threat back then, a lie to keep him from even thinking of escaping, but what if…  
  
“I can hear you thinking.”  
  
“You’re right, darlin’. I guess.” Jesse startled with a chuckle, offering a small smile - slightly embarrassed for some reason but sincere. It was almost always sincere for Genji. “Just wanted to say sorry, I s’pose. For the lost money and all... “  
  
Genji frowned at him, but not in his usual ‘just being in the grim mood’ way. He looked almost disturbingly serious retorting:  
  
“It’s not your fault.”  
  
“It is, though.” Jesse shrugged, looking away. There was no denying it - if anything, he could at least have the guts to admit he’s let them both down and deal with consequences.  
  
“It’s not. Your. Fault. I don’t wanna hear it!”

Jesse lifted his eyes in sheer surprise as Genji stopped dead in his tracks, almost angrily fiddling with the ice cream cup. Before Jesse could say anything, Genji grabbed the plastic spoon and shovelled a huge chunk of ice cream into his mouth with such resolve as if it was to prove something, either to Jesse or to himself.  
  
Stunned, Jesse watched his eyes widen in genuine amazement. Both of them went still for a second, not knowing what to make of this little exchange.  
  
“It’s… really cold,” Genji muttered, finally swallowing down with a short sigh. “And sweet.”  
  
He didn’t sound angry as before, just really surprised like he expected anything but, and Jesse couldn’t help the warm surge of a powerful, faithful fondness that bloomed in his chest at the sight of his confused expression that slowly morphed into a ginger smile. It was so… Genji, and Jesse didn’t even try to name whatever he felt for Genji, but seeing him like this, not in pain and smiling for once, did funny things to his heart.  
  
Damn, he was  _so_ screwed, and Deadeye had positively nothing to do with it.  
  
“You like it?” Jesse fought to keep his own smile in check, just for the good measure - Genji hated it when he got all sappy, or he said so at least.  
  
“Y… yeah,” Genji poked the ice cream with the spoon with a deciding hum, licking his lips. “I think I do. Maybe the outside isn’t all trouble. Want to share it?”  
  
Jesse just shook his head. There was barely enough for one of them, considering the ice cream was going to have to pass for a full meal, but he wasn’t complaining. How could he? Seeing Genji enjoy it made everything insanely worth it.  
  
The whole escape was just… worth it. The heavy worry-fed feeling in his chest eased, abruptly replaced with something suspiciously akin to relief. Genji did have this effect on him, huh. Where would Jesse be without a fiercely loyal, true friend to keep him going?  
  
Pretty fucking dead like the many others from the Program, that’s where.    
  
It was funny how easily Jesse could give up his worries and let go of the darker memories in favour of… this. The world was shit to them, but having Genji near, especially in lighter-hearted moments like this, really made Jesse feel a whole bunch better. Maybe even a little too much: Jesse felt giddy just watching him smile, feeling something inside his chest throb in a deep determination to do whatever it takes to protect Genji and keep him close.  
  
Pretty intense, these feelings. But that’s what friends do, right?  
  
Jesse really hoped that was something  _friends_ did.  
  
“I’ll do just fine,” Jesse hurriedly added, before Genji could argue with him. “Tell you what, you finish this, and then we head straight for the train station and see where that takes us.”  
  
“Sounds good.” Genji licked his lips once more; Jesse looked away, flustered for no reason whatsoever. Genji was already back to his demure, gloomy attitude, the smile gone as fast as it appeared, but Jesse liked him just fine anyway.  
  
Too bad they could never catch a break.  
  
Without a warning, Genji swayed on his feet, grabbing Jesse’s sleeve for balance. His hand flew up to cover his mouth, his eyes widening and skin going unnaturally pale again in a matter of seconds.  
  
“I’m okay!” He waved Jesse off, jerking back with a back too straight and lips still pressed into a thin line. “It… happens.”  
  
Jesse let go of him, nodding slowly. There goes the playful mood...  
  
If Jesse didn’t know any better he would've said Genji seemed guilty out of blue, almost downright disgusted with himself like he was about to confess something horrible, but meeting his eyes once persuaded him not to prod at the topic. Genji didn’t want to be a burden or to seem weak, or he just didn’t want to talk about it - Jesse could relate to that, but showing how he felt that clearly was so unlike Genji. More like ‘unlike a Shimada’, even.  
  
Manners was one of the few things the Shimada clan actually managed to force onto him. Be quiet. Behave proper. Remain stoic.  
  
Jesse hated that.  
  
He hated that and still chose not to prod because Genji was stubborn enough to keep to himself if he wanted to, and Jesse was afraid to upset him again by pushing too far - so he just went with it instead.  
  
“Gotta catch the runaway train, darlin’. Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is dyslexic!Jesse a thing? *sits in the corner alone with a bunch of headcanons*


	9. T, E, M, P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there hasn't been a Gabe and Pharah chapter for a while, but I want to finish this episode off to avoid timeline confusion. Arcs run parallel in time, so this all is happening on the same day as chapters 4-5.  
> Anyway, here's another part for you! Feedback is much appreciated~

The station reminded Jesse of a hive. The first thing that hit him was the noise: Jesse could hear the trains roaring on the other side of the terminal and the crowd inside. The terminal was enormous, made of steel and glass. It buzzed with activity, even more so than the streets outside: people roamed the large halls, dragging along luggage, little cafes clustered at the sides, selling all sorts of junk food, and the speakers at the very ceiling kept announcing the arrivals and departures in a loud synthetic voice. Jesse felt uncomfortable just standing in the middle of that mess. Genji, withdrawn as ever, pressed closer to his side, as if afraid to accidentally lose track of Jesse in the crowd.   
  
“Watch it!” Someone almost bumped into them, startling them both. Jesse jerked Genji into the closest corner - not very quiet but at least they wouldn’t be stomped on by some angry passenger in a rush to catch their train.     
  
Having retreated to the relative safety of the cramped space between a bookstore and a cash machine, Jesse could somewhat look around. Well, they were in the right place it seemed. He couldn't read the large letters that kept lighting up on the screen right across the terminal, but it sure seemed like trains went all over the country from this place. Jesse could bet one of these would be going somewhere suitable. Finally, some plan of his was working! Now they just needed to find a way in…   
  
Jesse might have not had thought _that_ part of the plan through very well.   
  
He frowned slightly, watching the endless stream of travellers cross the terminal and split before the security posts. Jesse vaguely knew that airports had really tough security checks with searches and stuff, but that didn’t look nearly as bad. A group of officers was hanging out near a bunch of frames, that beeped now and then as people went through.   
  
“Are those scanners? How are we going to get to the tracks through that?” Genji was watching the security, too. “Can’t we just… sneak around?”   
  
Jesse shook his head. He’s thought about this before even offering the station as an option. He remembered a thing or two about the trains from his Deadlock days, and the most important one was: trains were fast. They only ever stopped at the stations, and there was no hope whatsoever to get onto one outside of the terminal. Of course, sneaking onto a smaller station somewhere in the countryside would’ve been much easier…   
  
But he guessed Hanzo tracking them down was a bigger threat than a security check. The officers were only humans, and they couldn’t know much. They could fool them.   
  
“If they catch us before we even get to the trains, we’re in trouble. We need to act… in-inconspicuous,” Jesse could feel his tongue hitching at the word. “We hafta go through the frames just like everyone else. They wouldn’t even know!”   
  
“What if they do?” Genji bit his lower lip, watching one of the frames emit a series of alarming beeps as one of the strangers from the crowd tried to pass. An officer that seemed indifferent up until now stepped out to say something neither Jesse nor Genji could hear from their spot before taking the unlucky guy away somewhere.   
  
The same guy that almost run them over a minute before, Jesse realised with a huff. Well, he had it coming for being a dick that didn’t look where he was going. Genji, however, was not impressed by the instant karma - he was clearly nervous, still waiting for an answer.   
  
“Peacekeeper is invisible to the regular tech,” Jesse’s heard that from the lab staff. He was supposed to end up being a supersoldier or… something, after all experiments, given he survived of course. So being able to conceal his trademark gun modded to work well with Deadeye made sense. “The prosthetics should be, too. I mean… there are plenty folks with metal parts ‘round now, why would they care?”   
  
It would make sense for the prosthetics of the meant to be Shimada assassin not to light up on the scanner like a Christmas tree, but Jesse chose to let this argument go. The whole ‘Shimada’ thing was an extremely touchy subject. Could he really blame Genji for that?   
  
“Don’t know about that. I’m not convinced,” Geni mumbled, looking around. “Is there any other way around this?”   
  
If there was neither of them knew it.   
  
“We’re gonna be fine!” Jesse promised instead. “Come on, real quick. We’ll be in and looking for the train before you know it, darlin’!”   
  
Genji definitely didn’t look convinced, but he followed, as always. Jesse manoeuvred through the terminal, keeping away from the worst of the crowd - they needed to stay calm for that, keeping Genji’s anxiety at bay, and Genji absolutely hated being in crowds, they found out. He probably just wasn’t used to it.   
  
There was a large printed sign printed at the entry of security checks zone. A few words in the smaller font and one big one in red. People passed by without paying much attention, so it probably wasn’t anything too important, but...   
  
“What’s it saying?” Jesse squinted, trying and predictably failing to read the sign. The letters were all scrambled for him - he could make out a few, but they made zero sense. There was a T, and an E with an M and… was that P? Jesse sighed, giving up. You know what? That’s what teamwork was for.   
  
Genji was normally pretty good with that reading stuff.   
  
“I, uh... “ Not today, it seemed. Jesse gave Genji a concerned look when he shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t know? Probably nothing useful.” Before Jesse could reply, Genji tugged him by the hand in the direction of the closest queue. “Please. I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible.”   
  
Jesse could never say no to him.

They ended up in a long, but rapidly moving line - one of many around. Genji was looking down and fiddling with his sleeves, clearly not up to a chat, so Jesse had nothing else to do except staring at the strangers. They all looked… weird. So different. Colourful. Life inside the lab was bland and blank, built around the routine. The subjects wore the same clothes, ate the same food, looked the same - faceless, just like the staff. The outside was different.   
  
The only thing that far too many people around had in common was medical masks. In fact, even some of the officers… Jesse swallowed a lump of uneasiness, glancing back at Genji’s greyishly pale face.   
  
“Are you really feelin’ alright?” He asked quietly. If Genji really was ill with whatever these people were trying to shield themselves from…   
  
Genji jerked his head in a clear ‘I don’t want to talk about it’. Jesse didn’t have time to pry: the queue was moving quickly, and the beeping frame was getting closer with every step. It wasn’t even that risky, they were trying to get to the train tracks, not into a fucking White House - yet Jesse could feel the cold sweat break in. The leisure glances the officers were giving the queue now and then were feeling like goddamn X-rays.   
  
“Just remember, act normal!” Jesse whispered right before their turn. “They have no idea what we are, just don’t do anything suspicious, and we’ll be okay!”   
  
The frame beeped, lighting up green. Before any of them could panic and change their mind, Jesse dragged both of them into the scanner.   
  
It was impossible, but Jesse could swear he felt the Deadeye implant tingle inside his head as he rushed through the frame. Jesse was slightly ahead, he’s managed to step out of the frame and release the breath he didn’t know he was holding…   
  
Before the scanner emitted a loud thrill from behind, lighting up red.   
  
Jesse turned fast enough to see Genji’s sombre expression morph into a panic when one of the officers appeared beside them.   
  
“I’m afraid you’ll have to follow me.”   
  
But why?! It couldn’t have been Peacekeeper, there’s no way...   
  
“We didn’t do nothing wrong!” Jesse protested weakly, squeezing Genji’s hand as hard as he could. Anything to stop him from running or worse - fighting.   
  
It would only make things worse.   
  
“I’m sure you didn’t,” the officer agreed pleasantly. “It’s a standard procedure with epidemics. We're doing temperature scans, you’re not allowed on a train if you’re ill. Your friend over here seems to be having a fever, so we need to run a quick test or two. Don’t worry, it’s easy and safe, and you can still catch your ride if they turn out negative, alright?”   
  
The temperature scanner.   
  
Oh. _Oh_. So that what the sign was saying. Jesse looked back at Genji, finding that he stared at the officer in utter horror.

“Come on,” the security guy urged, slightly impatient, but not threatening.   
  
Jesse’s mind was going a mile a minute in a frantic search of a way out. What do they do now? They could run, but it would probably get them nowhere - the crowd was way too dense, people standing up close to each other. No way they’re gonna get far. Picking up a fight? It’s like asking for all the attention. Once the police come, they make a big deal of a fight in a public space, that’d sure as hell get them caught by some real chase…   
  
What else. What else?!   
  
Jesse fought his damnedest to keep up a calm front. They didn’t do anything _wrong_ , right? He’s said so himself. The security guy only stopped them because the bloody scanner went off, nothing more. They weren’t arrested or anything just yet. So what if they got stopped, alright? Having a fever is not a crime, and no one said they were in trouble. The only way was to roll with it, so the officer wouldn’t suspect anything weird.   
  
He could feel Genji shivering slightly, as they apprehensively followed the guy.   
  
“Aren’t you two a little young to be travelling alone?”   
  
Jesse couldn’t come up with an intelligent reply to that, but the question seemed to be rhetorical. The problem was, they probably were too young. Jesse had little idea about the laws and such, but anyone could say they were quite the sight.   
  
They didn’t have any ID, too. The test subjects were pretty much non-existent in terms of documentation: it’s not like they would ever need them in a closed off lab, but their existence was barely recorded, no names, no details, just the experiment logs and lab journals. Everyone knew their stuff back there, but the outside was… different. People wanted to see things like your passport and parents' permission and train tickets here. Jesse had neither of three.   
  
The security guy followed them closely as if suspecting they might bolt. Rightfully suspecting, looking at Genji. Jesse couldn’t even comfort him right now, and it was setting him on the edge, too.   
  
As if the idea of Genji catching that mysterious disease alone wasn’t bad enough, damn it! At least the test the guy mentioned could be useful, Jesse figured. They’d know for sure if Genji was ill or not. He just needed to keep it together, and they could even turn this in their own favour. Sort of. Jesse gave Genji’s hand a reassuring squeeze, trying to convey without words: _stay calm, don’t do anything stupid._   
  
Wherever they were headed wasn’t too far off. They’ve gone through a couple of other queues to much dismay of the people in the lines and ended up against a plastic white door hidden in the corner. One of those ‘authorized access only’ ones, it looked like. The guy opened the door with a magnet card and let them in first.   
  
The door clicked, auto locking behind them. The card went back to his pocket.  
  
At least it didn’t look too scary. A small room, divided into even smaller sections by an opaque plastic screen, with a table and chairs on one side and a computer table and another door on another. Jesse looked around, trying to familiarise himself with the new surroundings as quickly as possible in case they needed it later. He could feel his own implants, Deadeye himself, stir from the adrenaline rush - just like in training back in the lab. Right. Stay calm, whatever.   
  
“Take a sit.” The security guy made a broad gesture in the direction of the chairs. Jesse nodded quickly, catching the way Genji was glancing back to him for approvement. It was best to cooperate for now. “Can I see your ID of any sorts?”   
  
Here goes.   
  
What was there to say? Sorry, but the documents got lost a second before they were about to enter a goddamn train station? Even if they had ID Jesse couldn’t let anyone know who they were! The second any information on them gets in any sort of system, Hanzo’s gonna be there - at least Genji was convinced in as much, and Jesse tended to believe Genji.   
  
“Actually, nevermind! I see you’ve got the prosthetics over there, I’ll just scan that.” The guy lifted his head from the tablet that he was filling some sort of a form on to see their stunned expressions. Neither of them could keep that off their faces, but to some impossible luck, he’s found his own way to interpret their confusion. “Don’t worry about it. It’s the new procedure, with the tests and all… Just got introduced by the national services a few days ago. This epidemic’s a big deal, isn’t it?”   
  
Jesse watched him pull some device from under the table and summon Genji closer, taking his metal hand. Genji went without a single protest, his expression blank. Jesse knew better than to think there was anything other than pure fear behind it, but at least he could keep his facade - the security guy still didn’t look very concerned.   
  
“There we go, this should automatically tie your ID with the test results…” Jesse fidgeted with his hat, watching the device beep and flashlights and the guy frown slightly.   
  
Genji went very, very still.   
  
“Uh…” The officer looked down at his tablet, giving it a shake in apparent confusion. “This is weird. Doesn’t seem to show anything. It can’t even connect to the chip that should be right there. Where’d ya get these prosthetics installed, buddy?”   
  
Hell no. Jesse didn’t even know there were chips in civilian models that the scanners could read! The security guy didn’t seem too fazed just yet, but this was going down real fast.   
  
“The damn thing must be glitching. Mind if I take a look on another one? You have quite a few. Must’ve been a nasty run-in with hospitals, huh...”   
  
He didn’t even do much, just lifted his hand in a general direction of Genji’s mask. But it was enough to set him off: Genji jerked away with inhuman speed, almost knocking a chair back.   
  
_“No!”_   
  
That was when Jesse realised two things at once.   
  
First, Genji was quickly taking in his mistake. Second: it was too late to correct it.   
  
The officer was looking at them… differently now. That polite easy-going attitude remained glued to his face, but he was definitely reconsidering what he was seeing now. They looked… roughed up, alone, far too much augments for the two of them, Genji was clearly unwell - and now this. It just dawned on Jesse the guy could call social services out of best intentions. Take them for the strays or something like that and try to help.   
  
Or maybe he wouldn’t. A former street kid knows everything about all sorts of nasty things people in uniform can pull when they feel like it.   
  
For the first time, Jesse felt like checking if Peacekeeper was still in the holster under his baggy coat. He tensed as the guy stood up, a soft, unnatural smile plastered onto his mouth.   
  
“Just wait here, alright? I’m gonna go get that test from the other room.”   
  
Jesse had a feeling he wasn’t going for the test.   
  
The second the door closed behind him, Genji was back on his feet too, looking seconds away from a panic attack.   
  
“What now?!”


	10. Wrong About Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life's busy, but no worries, we're getting on with the plot, albeit slowly. Really slowly. Cough cough.  
> A slightly shorter chapter just to get back on track!

“What is he going to do? Call the police? Are we going back to Them?”   
  
Jesse and Genji both flinched at the rise of Genji’s voice. They couldn’t afford to shout, not when the officer was still next door. Quickly realising his slip up, Genji continued in a hurried, tensed whisper:   
  
“We need to get that door open before he returns! Maybe you could shoot the lock off, but then somebody will hear… Maybe I should call the dragon, we could fight--”   
  
He was pacing, gesturing wildly, so immersed into the panic that he didn’t even register Jesse coming up to him until Jesse’s warm human hand squeezed his shoulder slightly.   
  
Using the abilities wouldn’t do them any good. Genji’s dragon was his special skill, like Jesse’s Deadeye, but it also was… unlike it in many ways. Different. More powerful, in a sense, and certainly much more destructive, but insanely hard to control. Jesse knew little about it, and he suspected even the lab staff themselves were wary of it.   
  
“You know we can’t do that, darling,” Jesse tried his absolute best at keeping his tone light and calming. “We can’t fight a normal human, right? He ain’t done any harm to us. That would be hella unfair.”   
  
Oh, and there was also the idea that their skills were designed to be _fatal_. Fighting the security guy meant killing him for good, and in all honesty, Jesse was pretty sure one doesn’t start a brand new life by killing some civilians.   
  
He kinda liked the guy! He was polite and overall nice. Jesse’s spent last decade being treated like trash. ‘Polite’ was a nice change from the barked out orders and insults. They couldn’t just resolve everything by murder - Jesse’s been pretty set on avoiding it altogether, just to spite the lab staff that wanted them as weapons so much if nothing else. There was no way Genji was serious about that. It just wasn’t… him.   
  
But then, Genji seemed pretty serious about getting the hell outta here right now. He looked like any methods could do for him at the moment. Desperate, rather than determined.   
  
“Hey…” Jesse tried, squeezing Genji’s shoulder gently.   
  
Genji attempted to jerk away from the touch, his face scrunching from the internal turmoil, but Jesse didn’t let go, pulling him closer instead. It was all going to be okay. They could still run or talk their way out of it somehow, they could deal with it without resorting to the extremes - he just needed to help Genji get himself together once again.   
  
It was his responsibility and his fault, after all. There were probably better times to beat himself up than right now, but Jesse couldn’t shake off the feeling that he should’ve known better. He was well aware Genji _hated_ when people touched his mask, he should’ve predicted he would react like that, he…   
  
There was probably nothing he could’ve done to stop it anyway. If only Jesse could read the goddamn ‘temperature scanner’ sign!   
  
“Gotta focus, okay?” Jesse took a cautious step closer, careful not to set Genji off again. Genji’s tense posture didn’t change at all - he just stood there, looking straight in front of himself as if only waiting to get back to pacing. He looked… cornered. “Nothing happened yet, okay? We just need to figure out what to--”   
  
He wasn’t allowed to finish. Jesse jerked back on instinct when Genji violently snatched his shoulder, shaking Jesse’s hand off and turning to face him, with a barely suppressed shout that came out almost as a hiss:   
  
“I can’t, Jesse! _I can’t go back_!”   
  
For a second both of them seemed equally taken aback.   
  
Genji brought his hand up, covering his eyes, his voice was muffled behind the mask and muddled with emotions, but he kept talking.   
  
“At first… I thought this whole escape thing was never going to work. So it didn’t matter if it failed, I didn’t expect anything good to happen anyway. It was a… play along, you know? Because you asked me to?” The words were coming out quicker and quicker, but Jesse listened with utmost attention, frozen in place by the suddenness of the outburst. “But then… everything’s different here.” Genji took a shaky breath, glancing back at the door. “I-I like it! It hurts less, everyone is _normal_ , doing their own thing, and maybe we can be normal too! What if we can have a life just like you said?”   
  
Jesse opened his mouth to respond and closed it back, pressing his lips together. There was nothing for him to say. It wasn’t the first time Genji spoke to him like this, but every time caught him off guard like the very first. They trusted each other, they _talked_ , but it’s always been hard to tell whatever Genji was feeling. It worked just fine, Jesse became pretty damn good at guessing over the years, and Genji got to stay withdrawn and reserved all he needed.   
  
Until, of course, a breaking point would come along - Jesse just didn’t expect it to be _now_. Not when they were in a very current, very real danger. Not when someone could hear them. Genji’s never spilt his soul out like this before - he hated to talk about anything remotely personal, at all, and if he did, if needed to be in the most secure space they could find, with just Jesse there to listen. It had to be a special moment. It took Genji time to reconcile with the mere idea of saying something deeply personal out loud - each. Damn. Time.   
  
Jesse guessed the usual rules didn’t apply now. It wasn’t the best time to have The Feelings Talk, but Jesse would rather shoot anyone who’d try to interrupt than stop Genji.   
  
“If we go back… If They find us and bring us back… I don’t care what they do for a punishment, but it would be so hard to forget everything and live as if nothing happened, you know? I think about doing the same thing over and over again like we’ve done for all our lives but with something to compare it to… And I’m scared because it’s only going to make it worse!”   
  
It all made perfect sense.   
  
Genji didn’t know it could be like this. Jesse could promise all the good things he wanted, but it meant nothing without catching at least a glimpse of it first-hand. The clan made a point of exposing its ‘tools’ to the real world as little as possible - Genji’s life has always been the same. The labs, the experiments, the surgeries. Genji never knew anything different.

Jesse had the Deadlock days, at least - there wasn’t much to miss, but he could at least keep in mind that there’s something else to this life. Starving in the gutters, you still get to realise some people have what you don’t - the pretty perfect picture life, family, money, freedom, you name it. Having been raised to be a test subject at the start, you had no idea about any of it.   
  
The best Genji could wish for was for the pain to stop. Then Jesse came along with his memories of the Outside… and that’s when their dream to escape started.   
  
It just… clicked, didn’t it?   
  
Genji’s fear was never about the mask. Well, it started with the mask - and ended with something that made Jesse dizzy with the force of compassion. Jesse knew all about missing what he could’ve had (theoretically - it’s not like he was deserving of any of these good things the outside world had to offer, but the possibility itself mattered), but he could only imagine what it must’ve felt like, to get a taste for the first time ever and then think it’s gonna get taken from him forever.   
  
If anything, Jesse felt mad - because they haven’t even started exploring the good things. Genji hasn’t seen anything yet, not really - they’d been awfully busy with running and surviving on the go and being lost and in pain. Genji didn’t deserve to fear that something that wasn’t even that good was getting taken away. God, Jesse was _mad_ \- because mad was the only alternative to distraught right now, and one of them needed to keep it together.   
  
On the periphery, Jesse could hear the officer through the wall, talking to someone in the other room. His hearing was nothing like Genji’s enhanced senses, but he could still pick up some words through the thin wall - something along the lines of ‘something’s not right with these kids’.   
  
Damn right something was Not Right about them. It’s not like they asked to be experimented on or to become some rich powerful bastard’s toy super soldiers or whatever it is they’ve been meant to end up as. No, they sure as hell didn’t - but there was no going back now, and it’s not like world’s gonna treat them any kinder, Jesse already knows it wouldn’t by the first-hand Deadlock-delivered experience. Here’s a thought, Jesse was going to shove every little thing wrong with them right down the throats of anyone who’d try to hurt Genji again.   
  
Whatever it takes. He might be a garbage kid no one gives a shit about, he’s been that all his life, but now he was a garbage kid with a _gun_ and a hell of a high tech amplified aim to go with it. The staff probably hadn’t had that in mind when they gave Jesse Deadeye, but he wasn’t obliged to hate it.   
  
No. If they’re made wrong, they might as well use it to defend themselves.   
  
Jesse wouldn’t have pulled the Peacekeeper on the officer that just wanted to help, or at least seemed like it. But he would’ve loved a chance to get even with people who had put Genji (not Jesse, not even Jesse cared about what he’s been through, he was never as important - in his own eyes first and foremost) through all that.   
  
The fervent inner resolution almost drove his attention from Genji, but his next words snapped Jesse’s focus back.     
  
“I’m _sorry_ , I should have trusted you,” Genji muttered, his eyes still covered. ”I should have _told_ you…”   
  
All the anger felt… dampened, replaced with worry. There were no excuses in getting distracted now - there’d be time for sorting out their revenge agenda later.   
  
“Told me what, darling?”   
  
Whatever Genji was going to say after that drowned in a horrible, blood-curdling scream that tore through the busy train station noise on the other side of the door.


End file.
